Texture Of Casual Desire
by sonomom
Summary: Did you ever wonder what Ranger is doing when he is absent from Janet Evanovich's stories? How and why did he go from a street-savvy bounty hunter to a tuxedo-wearing CEO of a large security company? This is the story of Ranger and his student, and how a casual attraction morphed into an unrelenting need…the need for Stephanie Plum in his life.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The characters in this story belong to Janet Evanovich. I gain no remuneration from their use, just the joy of having some really, really fun characters to play with. This is a retelling of the story of Stephanie and Ranger from a slightly different perspective. There are instances in almost every chapter where lines of Janet Evanovich's dialogue have been entwined with my own words, to tell the story of Ranger and Stephanie from Ranger's side of the fence. Thanks to **latetolove and jago-ji** for their editorial expertise and especially thanks to **jago-ji** who keeps me accountable for all I say and print. If you like this story, let me know and if you don't, let me know.

Chapter 1

He strode purposefully through the lobby, ignoring the stares. His clothing separated him from the other occupants of the elegant foyer. Black boots hit the marble floor with a measured cadence that caused heads to turn. The loose fitting windbreaker that covered several weapons was plain, with no identifying logo. At first glance, he looked like an employee of building services rather than one of the upscale tenants, but no one questioned his presence in the exclusive area. His outfit may have been more appropriate to that of an employee, but his complete disregard of the speculative perusal of those he passed by, and the subtle air of authority assured acceptance of his presence, regardless of his clothing.

Glances that started out scathing soon changed, as they took in the dark hair slicked into a neat ponytail, the straight nose and full lips, and the chocolate eyes that lingered on no one, but missed not even the smallest detail. An aura of danger kept others from sliding too close to his personal space, and eyes that looked and then shied away turned back for a second look. He was spectacular and although he wasn't dressed in the usual workday uniform of the upwardly mobile, breeding couldn't be hidden, even beneath tight fitting cargos and a loose windbreaker. The man was an aristocrat.

He knew his physical appearance was attention worthy, but he didn't give it a second thought. His focus was on the woman waiting for him in the penthouse and the release she would give him. His needs were simple and he was straightforward in his pursuit of fulfillment. The physical dalliance with no promises and no permanent commitment was what he needed and he was fortunate he'd found someone who understood his expectations. The situation worked well for both of them and as long as she abided by the rules and didn't try to change the game, it would continue. He was unaware of her hidden motive, but that was going to change soon.

As he exited the elevator, the key was in his hand. He didn't need it, but he would use it to avoid the disagreement that would come if he slipped inside her apartment by alternate means. She expected him to observe the niceties, as befitted what she considered to be his elevated station in her world. He did what pleased him on most occasions and today it pleased him to get in and out with as little conversation as necessary. The door opened, even as he stopped in front of it.

The startled look on the man's face was hidden almost immediately as he exited the apartment. He nodded and murmured an undecipherable greeting as he scurried into the still open elevator. Tulia Campos appeared in the apartment doorway. Her long dark hair was contained in a smooth chignon with not a hair out of place. The simple lines of her figure-hugging red sheath proclaimed its designer pedigree as effectively as would an exposed label. Her only adornment was a platinum and diamond bracelet encircling her small wrist. She was more adept at hiding her surprise, but he saw it. He knew she was assessing the situation and working on damage control as she greeted him.

"Carlos!" she exclaimed. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Obviously," he said. "Who is he?"

"Rogay Alvarado," she said. "He was just paying a social call. He works with my father."

"How long have you been sleeping with him?" Carlos asked as he made his way into the apartment. Tulia closed the door behind him and followed him into the room.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "He's a business associate of my father's. I was having lunch with my mother and we met Rogay as we exited the restaurant. I invited him here for tea. I felt it was the polite thing to do, since he is a family friend."

"And your mother?" he questioned.

"She left minutes before you arrived." Tulia said as she moved closer to him, reaching out with a scarlet tipped hand to caress his cheek and let her fingers trail down his jawline. He looked at the tea service for two setting on the low table in front of the couch and said nothing.

"Are you jealous, Carlos?" she asked. "You've no need to be."

"I'm not jealous," he replied. "You have a right to your own life and a right to entertain whomever you please, but as long as I'm in your bed, I'm the only person in your bed. That was our agreement."

She wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled his face down toward hers and kissed him deeply. When she broke off the kiss she murmured, "You are the only one, Carlos. Take me to my bed." He did.

He was a generous lover in many ways, because it was easier for him to give than to accept, but this time he took her quickly and without concession. She was left wanting, but he knew she'd offer no complaint. It was an admission of guilt on her part. He knew she hadn't slept with her visitor, but she was keeping Alvarado on deck, like a baseball player warming up for his turn at the plate. That meant she had an agenda, and an agenda didn't hold well with his plan for casual sex. He left the bed and began to redress in clothes that had been hastily discarded.

Tulia sat up in bed and watched him. The sheet puddled around her waist, and the afternoon light pouring through the window gave her skin a luminescent glow. She was unconcerned about her nudity, all modesty banished by her concentrated effort to continue with her damage control.

"Carlos, why do you dress like a street thug? I know you are working on your own business interests, but must you dress like a gang member?" Aggression was a good way to redirect his thoughts from what he'd seen when he arrived and he recognized her tactic.

"And you would have me dress how?" he asked her.

"I would have you dress as befits your place in Cuban society," she said as she watched him strap the knife in its sheath to his right ankle. He pulled his pant leg down over his boot and the knife became invisible. He laughed out loud, a rarity for him.

"Cuban society?" he asked. "I'm a second generation Cuban-American. My father was born in Atlanta. I was born in Newark. I don't have a place in Cuban society."

"Carlos!" She jumped from the bed, seemingly unaware she was standing naked in front of the window. "How can you say that? Your father has successfully carried on your grandfather's business and it will be your business someday. Your mother is a patroness of the arts and her generous charity work is well known, here and in the city. You were educated at a prestigious college and groomed to take over the responsibilities of your father's business, yet you choose to dress like a common hoodlum and insist on pursuing your own interests." She turned and flung her arms toward him in a silent entreaty for his response. The sunlight was reflected in prisms thrown from her bracelet and he was blinded for a moment.

"Tulia, your knowledge of my family comes from the long association of both our families, but you are mistaken in your assumption I am to take over my father's business. I'm pursuing my own path, which I have not shared with you, nor will I. I allow the familiarity you have with my family because of the long friendship between our parents, but I have never invited you to be part of my personal business. You will keep your speculations to yourself if you wish for this arrangement to continue." The ringing of his phone interrupted him.

"Yo." Even as he answered the phone he saw a small frown of disapproval from her at his mode of greeting.

"Ranger, hi. It's Connie. Remember when I gave you DeLuca's girlfriend's address and you said, 'I owe you one.'?"

"Yes," he replied tersely. He didn't like being in anyone's debt, and he thought his favor was about to be called in.

"I need a favor," she said confirming his suspicions. "Morty is out and I know you've got all you can handle right now. Vinnie hired someone new and she has no clue. She needs some quick bounty hunter lessons. Vinnie gave her Morelli. Can you talk to her?"

He wanted to say no. He looked in the mirror and saw Tulia languidly stretching behind him, still naked and making no attempt to dress. She was hoping for a second round and he found he had no taste for her. He turned his attention back to Connie who was still petitioning him to talk with the woman.

"What's her name?" he asked, interrupting Connie's plea.

"Stephanie," Connie said. "Stephanie Plum."

"Tell her I'll meet her in the Main Street café. I'll be in the last booth on the left, facing the door. One hour. If she's not late I can give her thirty minutes."

"Thanks, Ranger. I tell her, but I'll describe you to her in case that booth isn't open..."

"It'll be open," he said and he disconnected. He slid the phone into his pocket and picked up the Glock 19. It went into his shoulder holster. The Sig went into the waistband of his cargos and nestled in the small of his back. He turned to see Tulia eyeing his armature and he knew she had questions which he wouldn't answer and didn't want to hear.

"I have to leave," he told her.

"Will you be back?" she asked moving close to him. She raised her arms and wrapped them loosely round his neck. He looked down at her breasts, their turgid nipples brushing the soft cotton of his black t-shirt and he felt a stirring, despite his desire to leave. He leaned down and gave her a quick, hard kiss.

"Yes, I'll be back," he said, "and next time I'll stay longer." It was as close to an apology for his selfishness in her bed as he would make. He donned his windbreaker, effectively hiding his weaponry and left the apartment.

An hour later he was sitting with his back to the wall watching the entrance. He saw a brown Nova cruise by leaving a vapor trail of blue oil-rich smoke. The second time the Nova passed the window it turned into a recently vacated parking space in front of the café. A woman got out and he knew with a certainty he couldn't explain, it was Stephanie Plum. She pushed the door to the café open and stood in the entrance for a moment letting her eyesight adjust to the dim interior. Slowly her head turned and she found her target in the back booth. Their eyes met and he was startled by the intensity of the blue. She started her trip back toward him stopping to smile at someone she apparently knew. Her eyes traveled from occupant to occupant, occasionally looking longingly at the plates in front of them. She was hungry, he deduced.

As she slid into the booth across from him she gave him a shy smile. Her hair was a wild disarray of brown curls and worthy of inspection, but he couldn't pull his eyes away from hers. He waited for the widening of fear or disapproval at his appearance. When it didn't come, he waited for the hint of sexual awareness to enter her gaze. It was what he was used to from women. They either ran in fear, or let it be known they were interested. This woman reacted in a way totally foreign to him. She stuck her hand out and waited for him to shake it.

"Hi, I'm Stephanie Plum. Connie says you can help me." He made the decision instantly. She was an innocent. A babe in the woods. He shook her hand and quit wondering how he was going to make an exit within his self-imposed thirty minute time frame. He was going to help her.

"Are you eating?" she asked. His gaze flickered to the cup of black coffee in front of him and he gave a slight shake of his head. She frowned for a moment and caught her bottom lip between straight white teeth. Her frown cleared and she raised her hand to signal the waitress.

"I have to eat," she said, "I'm starving and I need to fuel the tank if I'm going after Morelli." When the waitress made her way to the table, Stephanie placed her order for the Daily Special, which was chicken-fried steak with all the trimmings. As the waitress started to walk away Stephanie amended her order. "I'll need a piece of the devil's food cake for dessert."

Ranger had remained silent during their exchange, and Stephanie looked up to see his blank stare. "Okay," she said. "Let's get serious, I need some help."

Not only with fugitive apprehension training, Ranger thought. This babe could use a nutritionist. He leaned back and grinned. "Sooooo, Connie says I'm supposed to make you into a badass fugitive apprehension agent. She says you need to get the crash course. What's the rush?"

"You see the brown Nova at the curb?"

His eyes swiveled to the front window. "Un huh."

"That's my car."

He gave an almost imperceptible nod. "So you need money. Anything else?"

"Personal reasons."

"Bond enforcement is dangerous business. Those personal reasons better be pretty fucking good."

"What are your reasons for doing this?" she asked him. Points for Stephanie Plum. She hadn't batted an eye at his appearance or at the frankness of his conversation.

He did a palms up gesture. "It's what I do best." It wasn't totally a lie. He was very good at bond enforcement, and despite his personal fortune, he needed the money. He needed all the high bonds he could bring in. He was a self-made man and he would continue to bring in the high bonds for Vinnie, and for anyone else who hired him. It was the way he was funding his future business plans. This babe needed his help, and at the moment he was inclined to be generous.

"Maybe someday I'll be good at this, too. Right now my motive is steady employment. Will you help me, Mr. Man…um, what should I call you."

"Call me by my street name, Ranger." He settled in to listen to her story his eyes widening when he heard her say she'd found Morelli. He needed to reassess. Maybe she wasn't quite the innocent she'd appeared to be, but there was no question she was unprepared for the task that lay ahead of her. She'd found her prey and let him go. He was going to make sure that didn't happen again.

She was a babe in the woods, he thought, confirming his original impression, and for the time being, he decided she was his babe. He would teach her what he could and he'd help her get Morelli, as long as he could stay out of the action. Morelli was a decent cop in an unfortunate situation, and Ranger didn't want to get on Morelli's bad side. He might need a friend in the PD when his business plans came to fruition. He turned his attention back to Stephanie Plum and he started formulating the plan for her training. He realized she'd asked him a question.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I was still in shock from hearing you say you found Morelli and let him go. That's not the point of the game. What did you ask?"

"Is there any word on the street about why Morelli shot Kulesza?" she repeated.

Ranger gave her a slow stare. "None. But Morelli must have had a good reason. Morelli's a cool guy, and if a cop wants to pop someone, there are ways."

"Even cool cops make mistakes."

"Not like this, Babe. Not Morelli."

"So what are you telling me?"

"I'm telling you to be careful, Stephanie Plum."

Their conversation was interrupted by the delivery of Stephanie's food. His left eyebrow lifted fractionally in surprise, as she cut a large corner off the square of chocolate cake and ate it first. Her eyes closed and as he watched her he realized she was centering herself, banishing distractions and focusing on the pleasure of the cake on her tongue. Her small moans of pleasure were evidence he was right and Ranger forgot totally about the thirty minutes he'd allowed her. He was intrigued. She swallowed, opened her eyes and began to attack her steak with gusto. She pointed her fork toward Ranger for emphasis as she continued their conversation.

"You are just the most recent in a long line of people to tell me to be careful around Morelli," she said. "I'm very grateful for your help so I think I should be totally honest with you. I've said this was personal, and it is. I need the money desperately, but I've known Morelli all my life, and I wouldn't exactly say we're fond of one another."

Ranger looked at the myriad of expressions crossing her face. He held a smile in check as he asked, "Hell hath no fury?"

"Yes," she said somewhat curtly.

"He dumped you," Ranger said bluntly. "That explains why you're unhappy with him. Why doesn't he like you?"

"I, sort of, well, I ran over him," she said raising her chin defiantly, "in my father's Buick."

Ranger couldn't hold it in check any longer. His smile was wide and Stephanie Plum's eyes did a double-take at the sight of his transformed face. She felt a slow burn of satisfaction at the sight of his smile. She instinctively understood he approved of her unpremeditated attack on Morelli, and for the first time she wasn't ashamed of what she'd done.

When her plate was clean, she once again turned to the chocolate cake. He sat still, watching her unabashed enjoyment, finding some enjoyment of his own in being a spectator. As she wiped her mouth with the coarse paper napkin, he reached for his wallet and threw a couple of bills down on the table.

"C'mon, Babe," Ranger said standing and pulling her from the booth. He saw the relief on her face when she'd realized he was buying her dinner and he wondered just how badly she needed money. "Let's go buy you a gun." He felt comfortable in his role as a teacher. It wasn't the first time he'd been called upon to train someone, but this time he felt like Henry Fucking Higgins taking on Eliza Doolittle, and it felt good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Janet Evanovich owns them, I just play with them for fun**

Chapter 2

He loved his mother, so when her eyes filled with hopeful entreaty he acquiesced and told her yes. He knew she had an ulterior motive and for a moment he'd considered asking Tulia to accompany him, then he'd thought better. His father was away on business, and of all her children Carlos alone shared her love of classical music.

His mother was well known for her patronage of the arts in the Newark and Trenton area. Her long-time protégé was coming out tonight. Leida Velasquez had become his mother's pet project many years ago and Leida was no stranger to anyone in his family. She was but a child when he'd left to join the Army, and when he'd returned home she was a beautiful young woman. His mother adopted Leida as her pet cause and found scholarships and hosted fund-raisers. Leida had been accepted to a prestigious school for the performing arts and was destined to be a star. Her first concert as a professional pianist was as a guest soloist for the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra, and the reception following was to honor both the performer and her patroness.

Carlos' mother was several years younger than his father, so the fact that Leida was ten years his junior wasn't off-putting to his Mama's plan at all. She'd picked Leida for Carlos and the concert was her first step in putting her plan into action. His mother wasn't often thwarted, but she would be this time, there was no question. Carlos had been friendly toward Leida the times they met in recent years, but the poor girl suffered from such a crush on him she couldn't reciprocate his friendliness. The minute she got close to him she blushed, lost the ability to carry on conversation and turned away from him in agonizing shyness.

Carlos knew his mother's plan was to substitute Leida for Tulia. Tulia Campos was from an old and respected Cuban family. Their families' friendship went back many years. On paper, Tulia seemed to be a good match for her son, but Mama didn't like Tulia, whom she considered to be manipulative and opportunistic. She had no idea why Carlos was seeing her, and he would have been happier if she didn't know about the two of them at all. On rare occasions, he and Tulia were seen publicly. They lunched infrequently and sometimes ran into each other at social functions, and someone must have seen them together and reported it to his mother.

Now that she knew, he was determined to keep the parameters of the relationship well hidden from his mother. He didn't think she would understand the 'friends with benefits' aspect of it, and if he was to be truthful, it was really less than that. He didn't consider Tulia a friend. She was a strong woman who, at the beginning, had been more than willing to jump into a sexual partnership with her longtime acquaintance, Carlos. "A woman has needs, too," she'd said.

He'd given thought lately to what, exactly, Tulia needed. The presence of Rogay Alvarado in her apartment the other day would have been no cause for suspicion, had both Alvarado and Tulia not acted as though they were trying to conceal something. Possibly the need Tulia had been referring to, prior to their first time together, had been the need to find a suitable husband. Carlos couldn't fill that role and wouldn't, even if he could. He heard a distinctly musical laugh, feminine and charming and turned to see the woman he was sleeping with across the salon.

Tulia Campos looked stunning in a strapless blue gown and the look Rogay Alvarado was giving her didn't look like he was paying a duty call on the daughter of his co-worker. Carlos sighed. It had been good while it lasted. He turned and walked toward the bar. At least he could make his mother happy tonight.

As he made his way back across the crowded room, he was aware of the interest he generated. His mother and father were well known within the circle of attendees, but his own appearances were infrequent. His wide shoulders, which filled out the custom made tuxedo jacket perfectly, along with the sparkle of a diamond stud visible through the length of hair that flowed freely onto his shoulders gave him an air of danger. His mother would have preferred a more conventional look, but he couldn't accommodate her.

The hair and earring were necessary to the success of his plan. He was a highly trained ex-Army Ranger, so he had the skills to back up what Tulia had referred to as his street thug look. It was important that he be known and respected in areas of the city that were worlds away from the place he'd lived as a child. His appearance and a 'don't mess with me' attitude helped his street persona as someone to be wary of. Both his parents knew, and mildly disapproved, of the plan, but accepted his right to choose his own future.

He spotted his target and moved toward her, handing her the glass of champagne. He waiting for the blush and stammer, but it didn't happen. Leida Velasquez smiled widely and accepted his offering.

"You did a beautiful job this evening," he told her, surprised to note it was true. He knew she was talented, as his mother had an unerring knack for finding true talent, but when he'd seen her solo piece listed on the program he'd wondered at the wisdom of her choice. He knew she'd have the technical skill to pull off Tchaikovsky, but he was surprised at the maturity and the passion she'd infused into the piece.

"Thank you," she told him. "I was a little nervous at first, but then as I began to play my awareness of everything but the music faded away." Where was the stammering, shy girl he'd remembered? The woman in front of him was confident, beautiful, and judging from the way she was looking at him, interested. He felt a stirring of desire as he looked down at her lithe figure encased in the conservative black dress she'd worn on stage.

"You're looking very handsome tonight, Carlos, and very different from the way you looked when you were in the Army." Her eyes met his directly and there was no blush. Apparently, the maturation process had extended beyond her musical abilities. Her eyes were inviting him to do something he suddenly found he was interested in doing.

Then he noticed the slight tremble of her fingers wrapped tightly around the champagne glass. He reined in the burgeoning desire, because unlike Tulia this girl didn't know there were rules. Tulia knew and chose to ignore them, but Leida didn't know and she would be hurt, and he wasn't into hurting women. Especially women his mother had picked for him. It wasn't going to happen, and he found he was a little disappointed about that.

He knew he'd be dropping by Tulia's later in the evening and he knew it wasn't going to happen with Tulia either. He didn't think she'd be expecting him and he didn't think she'd be alone. He might as well sweep the slate clean in one night.

Within the hour he became aware that Tulia was gone. He found his mother in the middle of a group of her friends.

"Mother, may I have a word with you?" he asked.

Claudia Mañoso smiled at her son and tilted her head slightly toward the dance floor. There was a combo playing softly and a few couples dancing on the small parquet square. Carlos recognized her ploy and dutifully guided her onto the floor. She was a tiny woman whose dark eyes reflected the strength and determination shining from his gaze. Her full head of silver hair cascaded freely on her shoulders in a fashion not dissimilar to her son's. She was a beautiful woman who was totally committed to her family and her charitable work. She would use this public opportunity to place her hands on the child she loved and worried about. As a mother she had the need to make a physical connection with her child, even if he was all grown up and very much his own man.

"What is it?"

"I have to leave, Mama. I have business to attend to."

"You're not leaving the country again, are you?" she asked with true concern making her voice husky. His parents knew of his government contract work and while he'd never led them to believe it was dangerous, they'd arrived at the conclusion without any confirmation from him.

"No, nothing like that. It's just something that needs to be dealt with tonight. I'll call Charles for you," he said referring to his mother's long time chauffeur. "And then I need to leave."

"Well, you'll have to finish this dance with me," she said holding his arm firmly. She knew better than to argue with him. He wouldn't leave her if it was unimportant. "Carlos, I need to ask you. You're not upset with me? About the apartment, I mean."

He smiled down at her. "No Mama, I'm not upset. But I will pursue the business on my own terms. I accept your gift for what it was, an act of love."

"Why are you so stubborn?" she asked. "You have your own personal fortune now that your grandfather is gone. Why do you insist on earning the money you need when you could use the money you have? What you do is very dangerous, I'm sure of it."

"We've been over this before, Mama. I want to make my own way. I love the family, but I must do this on my own. I accept your gift of the apartment, but…no more. The rest is my job."

She hung her head for a moment and then looked up with fire in her eyes. "You say you aren't angry about the apartment, but I think you are. What did you expect? You bring your father and me to an empty building to show us where your business will be and show us where you will live someday. Then you tell us you will disappear for as long as six months and we won't be able to contact you. I had the apartment decorated and furnished to keep my mind from worrying about the danger I knew you were in. You don't need the money, Carlos. To earn it in this fashion is crazy."

Carlos sighed. "I appreciate what you did. It's beautiful, and I am living there. But you've done enough. The rest I will do. As for my dangerous work, I won't be going away much anymore. I am getting ready to start work on the business full-time. And as for why I earn money in the fashion I do, it's what I do best. I'm not cut out to run the family business and if you won't admit it, at least Papa will. I am a soldier, not an art importer."

Claudia Mañoso tightened her lips in irritation at the stubbornness of her son. Others might call it determination, but she knew it was plain stubbornness that kept him from using his personal fortune to fund his business. She knew it because he'd inherited the trait from her. She also knew when to attack from a different side. She was a good strategist.

"I will interfere one more time, Carlos," his mother told him. "When your building is finished who will maintain it for you?"

"I haven't thought that far," he admitted.

"Well I have. I have a cousin and she and her husband would do fine in that position. They need the work and they would do well for you."

"You're referring to Ella and Luis?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Ella, your cousin, to whom you speak daily? You want me to knowingly place your spy in my midst?"

"Of course!"

He laughed out loud and swung his mother off her feet twirling her around the dance floor. They were oblivious to the looks from younger women, wishing they were in his mother's place, and from older women wishing their sons showed them such devotion.

"Carlos, put me down at once!" she exclaimed.

He did and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "I love you, Mama." When the song was over he saw her back to her table and called Charles as he made his way out of the building.

When he stood in front of Tulia's door he debated using the key. He slipped his hand into the pocket of his tuxedo pants and pulled out a slim case. Silently he worked on the door. He would move with equal stealth through the apartment to her bedroom where he knew he wouldn't find her alone.

Tulia surprised him. She stood leaning casually against the door frame to her bedroom, clad only in a semi-transparent negligee. The apartment was dark but she was backlit from a soft glow emanating from her bedroom. Candles. He noticed the soft strain of Chopin and there was no doubt a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket at her bedside. He'd been this route before with a pleasant outcome.

"I knew you'd come," she said. Her arms were folded under the curve of her breasts and he could see the outline of her nipples through the sheer fabric. The scene was set for seduction and he wondered why she thought it would be necessary to coerce him into her bed.

"I knew you'd be jealous when you saw me with Rogay," she continued. Her smile was small, wry and successfully hid the smugness she couldn't quite keep out of her voice. "I told you the other day, he's nothing more than a friend, but I knew the thought of me with someone else would make you insane. I knew you'd come to me. We belong together, Carlos."

Tulia slowly unfolded her arms and ran her hands lightly over her hips, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. "That insipid Leida following you around, her crush available for everyone to see, was an embarrassment tonight. She could never satisfy you the way I can. Come to me, darling." She held out her arms and let the smugness widen her smile as he took the first step toward her.

When he stood in front of her she leaned in and wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her face to his. He bent his head and brought his lips close to hers. "Where is he?" he breathed against her mouth. She tried to pull back but his arms wrapped around her holding her close. One hand remained against her back while the other put pressure on the back of her neck, pulling her even closer to him.

"Where have you hidden Alvarado? Or is he gone? Did you have a spy at the reception, someone who called as soon as I left?" She tried again, in vain to pull away. It wasn't possible. Her cheeks flushed at his accusation.

"You did," he said with a small laugh. "How far did he get before he had to pull his pants up from around his ankles and run from the apartment? Or maybe, he's still here. Is he under the bed, or maybe hiding in the bathroom behind the shower curtain?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "Rogay is a casual escort. There is nothing between us."

"I don't believe you," Carlos said. He let go of her abruptly and walked into her bedroom. He'd been right. The soft glow of the candlelight reflected off her dresser mirror, and the silver champagne bucket glinted in the dim light. He turned to face her where she was still standing in the door-way.

"You broke our agreement, Tulia. Or maybe you never planned on keeping it. Maybe your plan all along was to work your way into a more advantageous situation. Alvarado is just your back up plan."

"What are you talking about?" she asked as she walked toward him. Her voice was soft as she was still bent on seduction.

"I think you want a more permanent relationship with me," he told her. "Maybe you're aiming for marriage, but you're not sure if your plan will work so you've brought Alvarado in as your back up plan…" The soft buzz of his cell phone interrupted him.

He pulled the phone from his pocket and saw an unknown number. He was expecting a call from an important informant and he didn't think twice about answering. Tulia looked astounded he'd abandon their conversation, but was relieved at the same time as it hadn't been going in the direction she'd foreseen.

He slipped seamlessly into his street persona as he answered with a single word.

"Yo."

"Ranger?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Stephanie Plum. I have a problem." It wasn't his informant, but his student and her timing wasn't good.

"What's the problem?"

There was a short pause and then she said, "I'm handcuffed to my shower curtain rod, and I need someone to open the cuffs."

Ranger waited a moment and then disconnected. He had a responsibility to her, but he had to finish his present task before he could help Stephanie. He slid his phone back into his pocket as Tulia took the opportunity to attack him.

"You think I want to marry you?" she asked. "Which 'you' do you think I want to marry? The normal functioning member of the Mañoso family I have known for many years, or this street thug you morph into? Your personality is split. I'm grateful I've been shown this insanity before our relationship progressed any further." His phone rang again.

"Yo," he said again, this time letting his anger at Tulia show in his voice.

"Don't hang up! This is serious, dammit. I'm trapped in my bathroom. My front door is locked and no one has a key."

"Why don't you call the cops? They love this rescue shit."

"Because I don't want to have to explain to the cops. And besides, I'm naked." He smiled in spite of himself, and listened to her story of Morelli's deed. He took the directions to her apartment and disconnected without committing himself to her rescue, but he knew she was counting on him. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned back toward Tulia.

"You broke our agreement, Tulia." His voice was low and cold, any anger he felt toward her hidden behind an expressionless face. "I don't pay you to fuck other men."

The slap of her hand against his cheek was hard enough to rock his head back. "I am not your whore," she hissed. "You do not pay me!"

He said nothing as his hand wrapped around her forearm and lifted it in front of her face. He slipped a forefinger under the bracelet and pulled it taut. Even in the dim candlelight of the room the diamonds sparkled, seemingly with their own fire. She met his eyes briefly and then lowered her gaze.

He dropped her arm and walked to the bedside, bent low to pick up something off the floor. He turned and raised his hand to her, his palm open.

"My insanity is real, Tulia. You can't see what I've seen and do what I've done and not come out a little crazy." He moved his open palm closer to her and she reached out to take what was in his hand.

The silver cufflink with the 'A' monogramed in graceful script glinted in the soft light of the room. Her gaze lifted to his and a tremor of fear washed through her at the look in his eyes. She'd been caught out and realized she needed to be quiet.

"The apartment lease is paid through the end of the year," Carlos said. "You're welcome to remain until that time and entertain anyone you choose." He walked into the living room and pulled a key from his pocket. He laid it on the small table in the entry way and walked through the door for the last time.

Two hours later he unlocked the side entry to the empty building on Haywood and reset the alarm. He made his way up the staircase and pulled out a key fob. He walked slowly into the apartment his mother had spared no expense decorating.

He smiled as he made his way into the kitchen and pulled a beer from the refrigerator. Stephanie Plum handcuffed to the shower curtain rod had been a magnificent sight, and one that was burned into his memory. She'd been dry by the time he'd arrived, and cold. Her hair had been a wild halo of uncontrolled frizz framing her face. Her unapologetic stance as he'd entered the bathroom was something he'd not soon forget.

There had been no false modesty, no school-girlish embarrassment at her situation, just a healthy dose of anger directed toward Joe Morelli. The shower curtain had been ripped from the rod and it, along with the towel, had been crumpled and tossed in a heap on the floor just beyond her reach. She'd said her reasons for going after Morelli were partly personal, and apparently Morelli had some personal feelings of his own. Ranger was placing his money on Stephanie. Morelli's days as a fugitive were numbered.

She'd looked good, naked and chained to the shower curtain rod, and he sent a silent nod of thanks to Morelli for giving him the opportunity to help Stephanie out of the situation. He wondered briefly about replacing Tulia with Stephanie, but he quickly dismissed the idea. She was his student, and there was that thing about teachers and their students, so he nipped that thought in the bud.

She'd called him out on his street persona and he'd been amused by her, rather than angry as he'd been with Tulia when she'd done the same thing. Stephanie had accepted his explanation of being multi-lingual as a reasonable one, and for reasons he couldn't explain it had amused him.

He pushed his musings aside and pulled his phone from his pocket. He punched a number and almost immediately a voice he hadn't heard in over a year growled into his ear.

"This better be important, Ranger. Do you know what time it is here? It's the middle of the frickin' night."

"I know what time it is," Ranger responded. "It's one hour earlier there than it is here, and it's _the time_."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds and then Pierre Boudreau answered his friend, "I can be there inside a week. You've really got everything lined up? We're ready to rock and roll?"

"We're ready."

"Find me a place to stay. I'll pack up tomorrow and break the news to my Momma. She won't be happy about me leaving Louisiana for New Jersey, but I'll work it out.

"You can stay with me," Ranger told him. "Eventually there will be apartments in the building and you can have your pick of one of them."

Again there was a short pause. "I'd rather have a small house if you can find me one."

Ranger's laughter came spontaneously. "You're bringing your cats," he said between guffaws.

"Go fuck yourself," came the surly response.

"My friend," Ranger said, "with the day I've had, that is a distinct possibility."


	3. Chapter 3

**They all belong to JE. I use them for fun and not profit.**

Chapter 3

"You're limping." Pierre 'Tank' Boudreau's statement was matter of fact, without curiosity. He was walking side-by-side with Ranger down the sidewalk in front of the New Jersey State Police Headquarters.

"Flesh wound," Ranger replied. "It's fresh. I've still got it steri-stripped."

"I thought you gave up your government contract work," Tank said.

"Most of it, but not all," Ranger said. "But this wasn't government work. I was backing up a…" Ranger hesitated. He wasn't sure how to describe Stephanie Plum. A friend? His student?

"I was backing up a less-experienced BEA," he finally said. "I was wearing Kevlar, but the fucker got me in the thigh. Not a serious wound."

"Dangerous business, this bond enforcement work. Are you making good money at it?" Tank asked.

"Good enough," Ranger said. "I work for a couple of agencies and usually take only high bond FTAs. There's always danger, but you know as well as I do, good preparation goes a long way toward lessening the danger."

"So the inexperienced BEA wasn't prepared?"

"Not nearly," Ranger said, his mind going back to the call he'd had from Stephanie.

"_I have a problem," she'd said._

"_Are you naked?"_

"_No, I'm not naked."_

"_Too bad."_

"_I have an FTA cornered in his house, but I'm not having any luck making an apprehension."_

"_You want to be more specific about the not having any luck part."_

"_He took my pocketbook and kicked me out of the house."_

_Pause. "I don't suppose you managed to keep your gun."_

"_Don't suppose I did. On the bright side, the gun wasn't loaded."_

"_You have ammo in your pocketbook?"_

"_I might have had a few loose bullets rolling around."_

"_Where are you now?"_

"_In front of the house, in the Jeep."_

"_And you want me to come over there and persuade your FTA to behave."_

"_Yeah."_

"_Good thing for you I'm into this Henry Higgins shit. What's the address?"_

_It had taken him less than ten minutes to find Lonnie Dodd's house. Stephanie had waited patiently for him to show. When he got out of the Mercedes and walked back toward where she was waiting he'd had a hard time keeping a blank expression. As she stepped from the Jeep he could see her hair was plastered to her head and water was dripping from her nose. Melted mascara was making twin trails down her cheeks and yet she still came forward without an iota of false modesty or vanity. Her first word had been an apology that she'd had to call him. It was the first conversation he'd had with a woman who wasn't coming on to him since the last conversation he had with her._

"_Sorry to put you through this," Stephanie said._

"_This is partly my fault. I haven't been taking you seriously enough. If you're really going to do this job, you're going to need somebody to help you with the takedown. And we need to spend some time talking about apprehension techniques."_

"_I need a partner."_

"_Yeah. You need a partner."_

Ranger unlocked the shiny black truck and slipped into the driver's seat while Tank settled himself in the passenger seat. They sat still for a moment, Ranger still thinking about the takedown that had resulted in his minor wound, and Tank quietly observing his friend. As they drove away Ranger continued his story.

"I had a favor called in," he said, "and now I'm somewhat involved in the training of this novice BEA. She's got good instincts and she's determined, because she's hungry."

"She?" questioned Tank. A deep vibration started in his chest and worked its way up. His laugh was a long and loud baritone rumble of thunder. "Your one weakness has always been a woman in need. I can see nothing has changed. And unless I miss my guess, she's a looker."

Ranger said nothing, his mind flashing on the sight of Stephanie in the rain outside of Lonnie Dodd's house. He kept his face emotionless, but he couldn't stop the small upward curve of his lips. She was at the other end of the spectrum from Tulia Campos. She was as real as Tulia was artificial, but a looker? He didn't think she'd qualify for that category. She was just a real person trying to learn a new job, just the average girl next door.

"She needs a partner," he told Tank, "and I think she has me in mind, but I've got my own business to attend to. Still, I'm going to help her when I can, because she needs it." And because I want to, he added silently. There was something about Stephanie that drew him to her, but not her looks. She was average on anyone's chart, but she had a spirit about her that was compelling. Unbidden, his mind went to the mental picture he'd stored of Stephanie, naked, in the shower. Okay, not so average.

He started the truck, put it in gear and spoke to Tank as he entered the traffic. "You've got your BEA paperwork filed, let's go meet Les Sebring. He typically bonds out white collar criminals, but they are just as dangerous and pay as well as the low-lifes Vincent Plum writes bond for."

True Blue Bonds performed the same function as Plum's Bail Bonds, but the office set-up was entirely different. Ranger and Tank waited in the immaculate reception area furnished with low slung Danish sofas and expensive art on the walls. The last thing he remembered seeing on Vinnie's walls was Ms. September on the Atlas Oil Company calendar. The state-of-the-art computer monitor emitted a low ding and the receptionist turned to them.

"Mr. Sebring is available now. First door on the right, at the top of the stairs." She motioned with her hand indicating the way.

Ranger had made the appointment with Les Sebring to introduce Tank to him and to explain from this point on they would both be operating under the title of RangeMan Enterprises. Les stood from behind his desk as they entered. His suit was blue and well cut with pristine white cuffs extending the appropriate half inch beyond the jacket sleeves. Les' hair was almost as white as his dress shirt. All in all, his grooming was meticulous and as far from Vinnie's polyester leisure suits as could be imagined.

Both Ranger and Tank were dressed in black cargos and black t-shirts. It was to be their RangeMan uniform because it was functional and simple to acquire. Tank knew he was just the first of the RangeMan employees. It was something he and Ranger had discussed many times in the past. He knew of Ranger's plan to subsidize the RangeMan coffers with monies from special Government contracts. Ranger wasn't the only one who'd been filling time doing a little undercover work for agencies that were mostly unnamed. He was in a position to help his friend with his quest to get the security side of RangeMan up and running and he would speak with Ranger about the immediate future of RangeMan soon. He noticed the street talk was gone and Ranger was discussing business with Les Sebring on an equal level. Ranger was a man of many layers. The street smart bounty hunter wasn't an adopted persona, but a tool he used when it was necessary.

He'd known Ranger as a commanding officer, as a comrade in arms on black ops and now he was getting to know Ranger as a boss. There was no question in his mind he'd made the right decision to join in Ranger's dream of operating his own security company. He wasn't totally informed about the details of how the company was going to work, but he smiled at the thought of the news he had to share with his old buddy. It wasn't a one way street. Ranger would listen and take advice if he thought it was applicable.

The meeting was over quickly and the two made their way toward Ranger's truck. Tank's step stuttered and then he came to a halt.

"What in the hell is that?" he asked reverently.

Ranger looked up to see the tall woman striding toward them. She was dressed in black leather pants with a form-fitting black leather jacket. Her heels were high, but they gave her stride no hesitation. The swing of thick straight blue-black hair curved in under her chin as she walked. Her complexion was startlingly pale which made her dark eyes and the slash of red on her mouth stand out in a way that should have been garish, but wasn't.

"That," Ranger said, "is Jeanne Ellen Burrows. She's a licensed PI and frequent BEA for Sebring. She's good."

"I bet she is," Tank agreed.

"I mean she's good at her job. She's ex-military, MP, which is as close as a woman could get to Special Forces during the time she was in. She knows her stuff. We worked together a couple of months ago to bring in a high bond for Sebring and she earned her half."

She came to a stop in front of them and gave Tank a thorough appraisal. Then she turned her attention toward Ranger. "Les have something for you?" she questioned. Ranger gave a small shake of his head.

"We just stopped by so Les could meet my new associate." Her eyes slid back toward Tank. Ranger made the introduction.

"Tank," she said, speculatively. "I'd like to hear the story behind your name sometime." She angled toward Ranger and handed him a card. "I've got new digs," she said. "Come up and see me sometime." She winked and walked past them into Les' office.

"Can we hire her?" Tank asked. "She's already got the uniform." His eyes were fixed on her ass until it disappeared behind the door to Sebring's office.

Ranger considered Tank's suggestion. "There might be a place for a woman someday in RangeMan, but not yet. We've got to get Brown and Santos on board next."

Their next stop was at Vinnie's office to make Tank's identity known. Connie looked up from adding a topcoat to her manicure as they walked in the door. "Go on in," she said. "He's in a good mood. He just gave Steph a file on Kenny Mancuso. He figures if she brought Morelli in maybe she can get Mancuso."

"Maybe," Ranger said. "She knows she can call me if she needs help."

"Yeah," Connie said. "She knows. I reminded her, but Kenny Mancuso is some shirt-tail relation to Morelli. Word is Morelli is interested in finding him too, so I imagine he'll be sticking pretty close to Stephanie."

Ranger made no comment as he motioned to Tank to follow him. They walked into Vinnie's office. He looked up from his computer monitor in surprise and quickly minimized the screen. "Dammit, Connie," he yelled. "A little notice would be nice," and then as if realizing he was yelling in front of two men who could undoubtedly kick his ass, he mellowed.

"Take a seat, guys." He indicated two grease-stained chairs across from his desk. They remained standing.

"Vinnie, this is Tank," Ranger said. "We're working together now so when you need a BEA either one of us can do the job for you. Call me when you have a high-risk or large bond FTA and if I'm unavailable Tank will take over. I'll be adding more staff soon so they will be available to you as well. Any of my employees will be highly qualified so you can call us anytime the bond is high."

Vinnie stood up behind his desk so he wouldn't have to crane his neck so acutely to talk. "That's great. I need all the help I can get. Morty getting himself blown up has left me a little short. All I got right now is you two and my worthless cousin."

"Stephanie's not worthless," Ranger said. "She's untrained, but she managed to bring in Morelli."

"Everybody gets lucky," Vinnie muttered.

"She'll do fine," Ranger said. "She's got good instincts. She'll be more than capable of bringing in the majority of your skips. I'm training her and I have every confidence she'll be up to speed soon." Vinnie, wisely, didn't reply. They concluded their business and walked from Vinnie's office back into the reception area. Ranger handed Connie a card. "We're RangeMan now, Connie. Use these numbers to get hold of me, and give them to Stephanie."

"Sure," Connie said. "No problem."

"What the hell is that?" Ranger and Connie turned to look at Tank. He was staring glassy-eyed out the window. They turned to follow his gaze and Ranger's mouth curved up slightly.

"That's Lula," Connie said. "She's our new file clerk." Tank's gaze was fixed on a generous ass that wasn't quite covered by the black mini-skirt Lula was wearing. She was reaching across the top of a red Firebird securing the T-tops. Each time she reached, the mini-skirt rose a little higher until the majority of her hot pink thong was on display. As she closed the last lock, she pulled her skirt back over her ass and turned around to note the three occupants of the bonds office staring at her. Her hair was bleached a white-blonde shade and pressed into rows of finger waves. Except for her pink thong and the gold and silver feathers attached to her bright blonde hair, she was dressed entirely in black.

Ranger looked at Tank and cut him off before he could speak. "That's not our uniform, and we can't hire her."

It was late in the afternoon when they made their way back to the building on Haywood. Ranger had spent the day acquainting Tank with variety of people, including several residents of Stark Street. Tank blended well, or at least as well as a six foot-four inch, two hundred fifty pound man could. Ranger felt a deeply embedded sense of satisfaction to have his friend working beside him again. As they pulled into the unsecured underground garage he uttered a soft curse.

"Holy shit," Tank said. "Where'd these come from?" The garage was filled with shiny new black vehicles. There were several SUVs against a side wall and two heavy-duty pick-up trucks, not quite as tricked out as the one they were riding in. Along the back wall there was a sleek new Porsche Turbo sitting next to a Mercedes, and a classic BMW. Ranger let his truck slide into the empty spot next to the Porsche.

"It's the RangeMan fleet along with a couple of personal vehicles for me," Ranger told him, as they got out of the truck to inspect the vehicles. Ranger walked to the Porsche and bent low to reach under the passenger side door. He pulled a large manila envelope free of the tape holding it to the undercarriage. Inside were keys, each labeled for the appropriate vehicle.

"They weren't supposed to be delivered until tomorrow, late in the day. The security system for the garage won't be functional until at least midday tomorrow." He walked up the ramp to the street level entrance. Tank followed.

"I guess this will have to work for the night," Ranger said as he pulled a metal gate across the entrance and padlocked it shut.

"You got insurance?" Tank asked.

"Yes, but I don't plan on needing it. The place is secure enough, and these vehicles will last the company quite a while. I ordered enough inventory that I shouldn't have to be replacing anything in the near future."

"You must have been on some pretty big ops for Uncle Sam since you were discharged. You've spent a fortune on RangeMan so far and there's no income yet," Tank said.

"That will change soon, and I didn't earn all the money I'm spending. I have, ah, a partner."

Tank's eyebrows arched in surprise at that admission. He watched as Ranger started to say more and then hesitated. It was clear Ranger was ill at ease at his admission. "Time for us to talk?" Tank asked.

Ranger nodded curtly and said, "Come on up." They took the stairs to the seventh floor silently. Tank waited while Ranger went to the kitchen and returned shortly with two bottles of beer.

"I always planned for you to have a share in the business," he told Tank. He took a long draw of his beer and stared into space for a moment gathering his thoughts. "I was going to let you buy your way in while you worked. I still want that to happen, but I realized my dream of earning the money to start this business was just that, a dream. It would take me years to amass the capital I needed. I did some research and found a security business for sale and despite all my reservations, I bought the company with my own money…my family money."

"So you already own a company," Tank said. "And you made the previous owner your partner." It was a statement and a question. He didn't understand why Ranger was acting so guilty. He obviously still planned to go on with the RangeMan business; otherwise he wouldn't be sitting there watching his friend act like he'd betrayed him.

"No," Ranger said vehemently. "I own the company outright. It was a financially sound business, but the owner had to sell because of a divorce settlement. I was in the right place at the right time and I've been managing it for about a year now. It's providing revenue which I'm using to help start RangeMan. I've made no significant changes with the business, but I will in the future. It was too good an opportunity to pass up because I now operate small security concerns in Boston, Miami and Atlanta under the name Major Securities. Once RangeMan gets up and going I will change the name of the other offices and they will all operate as one company."

"So who's your partner?" Tank asked looking confused.

"I am," Ranger said. "I've set it up so I am borrowing money from myself to fund RangeMan. Once we start making money here I'll buy the offices out and they will become RangeMan."

"So you are your own partner?" Tank asked.

"Basically," Ranger said. "I've kept it to myself, because I was so adamant about not using family money, so I set it up as a loan. RangeMan Enterprises owes me. Having said that, I want you to have the opportunity to work your way into a share of the company."

"That's big of you," Tank said. "What if I want to buy my way in at the beginning?"

Ranger raised an eyebrow and stared at his friend consideringly. "Unnamed agencies with unspecified authority?" he asked quietly.

"That's right," Tank said. "I've been doing some traveling since I left the Army. I've seen several minor wonders of the world. Mostly in the Middle East, but most recently in South America."

"Son-of-a-bitch," Ranger said grinning at Tank.

"That's right, buddy," Tank told him. "You aren't the only ex-Special Forces guy Uncle Sam still thinks is special. Only when you made the call to me I decided I was done with that shit. What about you?"

"I may have a few more ops in me. It will depend on how fast I can repay myself…"

It might have seemed a crazy plan to some, but Tank accepted Ranger's explanation of the business with an equanimity born from years of friendship. Tank stuck out his fist and said, "Partners?" and they did a complicated fist-bump hand shake that was second nature to them. "Now call Santos and Brown and let's get this show on the road."

Ranger followed Tank's advice and called the men. When he went to bed that night it was with the knowledge that the dream of owning his own security business was well on its way to fruition. His last conscious thought before he drifted off into oblivion was that he hoped he'd have time for Stephanie. She needed more training.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Mother, I need your help." His words were soft and well-modulated and he was taking the coward's way out by saying them over the telephone.

"Could you say that again?" she asked. He spoke louder as he repeated the previously uttered words.

"There's no need to shout, Carlos," his mother chided him. "I'm not deaf; it was just nice to hear I'm needed. I couldn't resist asking to hear it again."

He smiled because he was not immune to the charming determination of his mother. She had clever ways of reminding him no matter how important he thought he was she was still his mother.

His voice softened, "I'm sorry, Mama. I've been very busy and I know I'm overdue for a visit. I'll come soon."

"Come for dinner this Sunday," she said. "I'll invite Leida. She's just home for a few days before she finishes up her inaugural tour."

"Don't match-make for me, Mama," he warned. "Leida is too young for me and although she is beautiful and talented, she doesn't interest me."

"I don't understand why you'd say that, Carlos. I know you're not seeing Tulia Campos any longer. She was the topic of discussion at the bridge club because she's seeing Rogay Alvarado and he's old enough to be her father. You're of an age to be settling down and Leida is perfectly suited to you."

"Leida is perfectly suited to you, Mama. I'm not interested, and I'm calling for another reason entirely."

"But, Carlos really!" The exasperation was clear in the tone of his mother's voice. He didn't lie, not usually, but he needed some information from her and he didn't want to continue the pointless conversation.

"I'm seeing someone, Mother," he said as his phone beeped to indicate an incoming call.

"Who?" she demanded. The phone beeped again and he looked at the caller ID.

"What's the name of the woman you're seeing?" his mother persisted. "Do I know her, or her family?"

"Stephanie," he said, reading the name off of the caller ID.

"Well, your father and I would like to meet her. What's her last name?"

"Stephanie Plum" he said, "and it's early days yet. It's not the time to introduce her to my family. Now let's change the subject. I need to know the name of the designer you used for my apartment. I'm going to use her to complete the rest of the building. The apartments on the fourth floor are ready to be decorated. I've got staff hired waiting to move in as soon as they are done."

"Where is Stephanie from, Carlos? Is she Catholic?"

"Mother." He didn't raise his voice, but she recognized the tone. He was his father's son in many ways and she knew it would be futile to continue with her questions. She had another agenda and she was going to pursue that line of thought before he could escape.

"Woodrow Smythe," she said, "of Burnfield, Weiss & Smythe Designs. He's very good and very busy. You'll be lucky to get him." The news surprised Ranger. He'd never considered his apartment had been decorated by a man. It suited him though, and he wanted the apartments on four to be designed with the same functionality, if not the same level of luxury, as his. He'd call the man and see if he was available for the apartments and maybe the entire building. It wasn't his forte or interest, but it was necessary. His attention snapped back to the present and he realized his mother was still talking.

"…about Ella and Luis. You said you'd consider them..."

"Ella and Luis' apartment will be the first one finished," Ranger said, interrupting his mother and startling her into silence. "I just spoke with both of them and they have agreed to come work for me. Luis will do building maintenance and Ella with manage the kitchen," _and me_, he thought silently. He knew it was his mother's wish that Ella would take care of his needs and he knew there would be some talk between the two women, but he trusted Ella to keep unspoken what needed to stay quiet.

"That's wonderful news, Carlos. I'm so happy you're giving them this opportunity. I need to go now. I'm going to call Ella and congratulate her. And, Carlos, I'm so very happy for you."

"Thank you, Mama. I'm happy too, to be finally starting to pull RangeMan together," he said.

"Well, yes," she said. "That's good news, but I was referring to Stephanie. I'm glad you finally found someone and I'm looking forward to meeting her soon."

He disconnected and stood with a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He'd just thrown Stephanie Plum under the bus. Chances were slim to none she'd ever meet his mother, but it would get his mother off his back if he could maintain the pretense of a relationship. His smile broke free when he remembered Stephanie limping around with a gunshot wound to her ass after she'd turned Morelli in. If he told his mother she was a gun-toting bounty hunter Mama would start to think Tulia was a good choice.

He disconnected from the call to his mother and returned Stephanie's call, ignoring the voice message she'd left, choosing instead to listen to her real-time. She'd been getting closer to Kenny Mancuso and had needed his help a time or two, but for the most part she'd done a good job. He frowned as she told him of her grandmother's disappearance in the funeral home. She had the feeling Kenny had something to do with it. He disconnected and made the decision to join her in her search.

He was still blocks away when the police scanner squawked the news of a major fire at the funeral home. His foot went to the floor on the gas pedal. Eliza Doolittle was in trouble. He didn't take time to wonder why the adrenaline coursed through him. He only knew he had an obligation to help.

The Mercedes squealed to a stop and Ranger exited the vehicle. The heat of the fire held him back for a moment and he took time to survey the scene. Black and whites had halted, helter-skelter in the road, and a crowd was standing mesmerized watching the building burn. He spotted Morelli talking to a small woman he recognized at Stephanie's granny. That was a good sign. Morelli took off around the side of the burning building and Ranger followed. He came to a halt when three of Trenton's finest stepped into his path.

"I'm looking for Stephanie Plum," he told them.

One of the officers said, "You need to leave. This area is restricted." Ranger paid no heed and pushed by the man. A man he knew to be a federal agent appeared from the back of the house and turned when he saw Ranger. He gave a slight incline of his head and Ranger followed him to the back of the funeral home. He heard Morelli before he saw him. He was yelling at Stephanie.

"Let go of his shirt!" Morelli bent forward and tried to remove Stephanie who was sitting astride Kenny Mancuso.

"He'll get away!" Stephanie kept her head low and her grip tight. She was determined to keep Mancuso flattened on the sidewalk.

"He won't get away," Morelli shouted. "I've got him." Stephanie looked up and saw Morelli by her side. Then she noticed Ranger and Roche, the federal agent, watching her. She smiled at Ranger, and he relaxed. She was okay.

She gave him a thumbs up sign and grimaced as she noticed her hands were covered with blood. Mancuso's blood. Ranger stood for a moment and just stared. Her hair was in wild disarray, but, all in all, she looked much better than Mancuso. She was two for two with her major FTAs. Vinnie should cut her some slack now.

Ranger was unmoving as he watched the scene unfold. Stephanie stood and pushed her hair out of her eyes as Morelli drove his fist into Mancuso's face and destroyed what was left of his nose. One of the cops cuffed Mancuso and hauled him to his feet.

It was dark and the scene was lit with flickering firelight as the funeral home continued to burn. Ranger became aware of the sound of fire engines and the chaos that reigned in front of the building. Stephanie was no longer in any danger, but he didn't leave immediately. He remembered Stephanie telling him it was personal between her and Morelli and it looked like things between them were on an upward swing.

Morelli's unprovoked attack on Kenny Mancuso and the look on his face told Ranger more than Morelli could have imagined. After Mancuso was walked around the side of the building, Morelli leaned in close and said something that made Stephanie laugh. It was very personal between the two of them. That was good. Morelli would watch over her. It should have eased his mind that he didn't have to bear the responsibility of Stephanie Plum alone. He didn't take time to analyze the minute dart of anxiety that coursed through him. He turned to leave. He had plenty of RangeMan business to attend to.

As he turned the corner and headed back to his car he saw Stephanie's grandma. She was struggling to shove what looked like a .45 long barrel into a black patent-leather pocketbook. His eyes crinkled and the corners of his mouth twitched. _Yep, Babe, that's one helluva gene pool._

Two days later Ranger opened the stairwell door and walked across the empty lobby of his RangeMan headquarters. He checked his watch as the lobby door opened and a tall blond man walked in. They met in the middle of the room and Woodrow Smythe held out his hand.

"Mr. Mañoso?" he said in a voice tinged with a honeyed Southern drawl. Ranger held his hand out and it was grasped in a firm handshake.

"Call me Ranger," he told the tall, deeply tanned man. "You're the designer? Mr. Smythe?"

"Call me Woody," he replied, the grin widening. "Your mother said you would be pleased by the apartment. I was happy to get the call from you, because if you want me to do more work it means she was right."

Ranger gave him a tour and explained what needed to be done. Woody listened attentively. He carried a pad and took notes, occasionally making sketches. When they'd toured the first five floors of the building Ranger turned and asked, "Any questions?"

"Yes," he responded. "I do have a question for you. How did you like the security system I put in your apartment? I was a little hesitant to do it because this building is going to house a security firm, but I wanted something that would integrate well with whatever system you use for the rest of the building. I didn't think I could design the apartment as I did and then leave it unsecure in a mostly empty building. I hope I didn't overstep my bounds."

Ranger took a long look at the designer and found him to be very interesting. He was young, mid-twenties at the most. He was tall, easily a couple of inches over six feet and well-muscled. They didn't look like gym muscles either, Ranger noticed. The man looked more like someone who did manual labor for a living rather than interior design. Not wanting to be unfair, he conceded there could be an element of physical labor in design work. Woody was wearing a pristine white dress shirt tucked into faded and well-worn jeans. His feet were shod in a pair of handmade Sorrel cowboy boots that had probably set the designer back at least a grand. Ranger knew, because he had a pair of his own tucked into the deep recesses of his closet. They'd been a birthday gift from his sister, Celia.

Ranger laughed to himself before he answered Woody's question. "The system you installed is exactly the one I would have picked, had I the option. I don't think you need to be worried about overstepping your boundaries. My mother had the entire apartment decorated for me without my consent or knowledge." Woody's face paled a little under his tan.

"I didn't realize that," he said.

"I'm aware of that," Ranger responded. "It's not an issue, between us, or between my mother and me. I think she did me a favor, actually. I want you to design the rest of the building. I like your style. Do you have much experience in home security?"

"Some," Woody said. "And I'm getting more with each job I do. We, uh, I have done a lot of high end homes in the Trenton area and I feel home security is a vital part of the design."

"You said 'we'," Ranger said. "Do you have a partner?"

"I did," Woody said. "I moved to Trenton to work with my fiancée and her business partner. Unfortunately, she and our other partner decided it worked better with just the two of them. They moved back to Dallas together, and she's no longer my fiancée. I've got thirty days to make the decision to buy them out or close the business, but don't worry, even if I close the business I will complete this job. I'm really excited at the prospect of designing the entire office complex."

"Do you enjoy the work, Woody?" Ranger asked.

"I enjoy it way more than what I was doing before I came to Trenton," Woody said. His eyes shifted slightly not meeting Ranger's directly.

"And what were you doing before you came to Trenton?" Ranger asked him. He had a good idea what he was going to hear.

Woody was quiet for a moment. "I was in the Army. Rangers. I never served with you, but I know who you are, Major. I spent a lot of time in Iraq and Afghanistan and I'd have to say I didn't enjoy it. I was good at what I did, but there was no enjoyment."

"I'm not Major, anymore. Just Ranger."

They continued their conversation about the plans for the unassuming building on Haywood Street and when Woody shook Ranger's hand and made his way out the door the decision had been made.

He'd have to make some phone calls, but his instincts told him he'd found a new member for the RangeMan team.

By mid-afternoon the background check was done and he'd talked to Woody's former commanding officer. It was his business and his decision, but he shared the information he'd collected with Tank. When Tank agreed, Ranger made the call.

"You've got the design job for RangeMan, Woody, and your answer to what I'm about to ask has no bearing on that. You have no obligation to say yes, but I'd like you to consider carefully what I'm going to ask you. Would you be interested in coming to work for RangeMan?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

"That was a quick reply," Ranger said. "Don't you have questions, about the job or about salary and benefits?"

"Yes, I do," Woody said. "But it won't change the outcome. I want to work for you."

"Well then, welcome to RangeMan, Woody." Ranger disconnected and laughed out loud. He knew he'd be hiring others besides Santos and Brown, and he had a list of likely candidates. He'd never considered hiring an interior designer, but the decision felt right. He picked up his phone to order flowers for his mother.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: The response to this story has been great. Thank you! If I have missed responding to any review it was unintentional. As always I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 5

He recognized the number on the caller ID. Les Sebring. There was plenty of work to be done at RangeMan, but Sebring only called when he had something big and RangeMan could use the income…there were payments to be made to the silent partner.

"Yo."

"Ranger." The husky female voice was not unknown to him but he was surprised she was calling from Sebring's office.

"Jeanne Ellen." He acknowledged her and waited. She didn't call to chat and he didn't think she'd waste time getting to the point. He was right.

"Are you still looking for Rodrigues?"

"Yes." He was actively looking for Jesus Rodrigues. He had feelers out in the Cuban community and had staked out Rodrigues' known hang-outs several times, but he wasn't having any luck.

"What's he worth to you? If the price is right I may be able to help you." The question and the offer were straightforward, but there was a playful tone in her voice, at least as playful as he imagined she'd get. She was usually brusque and businesslike in her conversations and he wondered if this was her version of flirting.

"He's worth a hundred grand to me." He wasn't in the mood for idle chatter and there was no playfulness in his tone.

"Did you know Les is out of town?" she asked.

"No." He wondered briefly at the significance of her question. "Do you know Rodrigues' location?" he asked.

There was a sigh. "All work, Ranger, and no play…okay, I might have a handle on Rodrigues' location, but I need backup and I'm thinking if we work together it could be beneficial for both of us. I'm after Clarissa Jones and one of my contacts says she's been renting a room by the hour down on Stark. If she keeps to her pattern she should be meeting her boy there at eleven tonight, and I think her boy is Jesus Rodrigues. She's not worth a hundred grand, but I need to bring her in and this seems like an easy way to get her. My contact says it's Rodrigues she's meeting, but I can't ID him. Can you?"

"Yes," Ranger said. "I can ID him. You want to take them into custody when they're together?"

"Well, if we get them when their pants are down there'll be fewer problems with concealed weapons." Her voice was low and smoky and not businesslike at all. "Meet me at Les' office about ten and come dressed. We'll undress later to celebrate our captures." She disconnected.

It was nearing the end of a long day for Ranger. He'd spent most of the day reviewing employment applications and he hadn't made it to the bottom of the stack. RangeMan had started with a small core group and they'd spread the word. He wanted to personally sort through the applicants, because only the best would be coming on board at RangeMan. The staff had to be increased slowly due to a still low, but steadily increasing workload. There was also the problem of meeting a weekly payroll of an expanded staff. The financial concerns explained why he'd listened to Jeanne Ellen outline her plan for capture. Bringing in Rodrigues would be a nice boost to his working capital.

Ranger held the phone in his hand and stood for a moment, head tilted slightly, replaying the conversation he'd just had. He'd been planning on a long run and an early night. Now Jeanne Ellen was offering him the opportunity to …what? Was he reading her correctly? He was pretty sure he was. Jeanne Ellen had shown a personal interest in him when they'd first met, but he'd been involved with Tulia. His life was complicated enough without juggling women so he'd ignored Jeanne Ellen. Lately though, she'd been forthright on several occasions, indicating she was willing. He made it a habit not to mix work and pleasure. It wasn't difficult, because he didn't usually partner with a woman, except Stephanie. Jeanne Ellen could take care of herself though and he thought the evening might turn out to be more than financially rewarding. He was right.

He called Tank and told him he'd be offline until the next morning. The RangeMan offices were coming along nicely and Woody had given him a completion date of just over a month. Major Securities, which was soon to become RangeMan, had acquired several accounts in Trenton. The monitoring was all done off site at the Boston office, but that would change soon. Lester Santos had moved in on four and Bobby was sharing Tank's house until his apartment was ready.

Until the office was up and going, there was always someone on call to answer any security alert. Woody was moonlighting taking his turn on call in the evening after he'd finished his day job. There was more staff coming and thanks to Woody there'd be a place for them to live.

Woody had finished an apartment on six in record time and much to his mother's delight, Ella and Luis had moved into their apartment a week earlier. He had to give his mother credit for suggesting Luis and Ella, because it was something he hadn't considered and they were going to work out well. He was reminded of Ella's efficiency when he'd opened his refrigerator door earlier to find shelves filled with healthy and nutritious options. And when he'd taken a shower he found she'd outfitted the bathroom with luxury towels, and a quality line of bath products. He'd grown up in a house with staff, and thought he would become used to Ella and Luis' presence quickly.

There had been times in his recent past when living in civilized conditions was only a distant memory, but he had come to a point in his life where he had to leave his past and forge a new future. His military days were behind him and his life was returning to a level of normalcy he'd known before. As the CEO of RangeMan he thought he could get used to having someone organize his day to day life, leaving him free to concentrate on the business.

He pulled to the curb in front of Les Sebring's office at ten. Jeanne Ellen was standing inside the front door. She was dressed for business in her typical black, but the heels had been replaced by a sturdy pair of boots. The fully loaded utility belt cinched around her waist rode just below the level of her Kevlar vest. The black SUV rolled to a stop and the passenger window slid down. Jeanne Ellen exited the bonds office and made her way to the SUV. She yanked open the door and settled herself into the seat, buckling up as he pulled away from the curb.

"The Majestic Arms," she said. "It's a hovel down on the eight hundred block of Stark."

"I know it," Ranger said.

She gave him a brief glance before she pulled a stun gun from her belt and tested the charge. "Didn't think you were a 'by the hour' kind of guy," she said, "I kinda had you figured for an all-nighter."

She was flirting, he was sure of it now. "I can go for an hour, or as long as necessary," he replied, and again she gave him a brief glance.

He looked like he could deliver on the promise and she hoped to find out after their work was done. "I made contact with the clerk at the hotel," she said changing into business mode. "It cost me fifty bucks, but he'll give them a key to room 101. It's adjacent to the lobby. No stairs to haul them down. All we have to do is park across the street and wait for them to show up."

Jeanne Ellen's Intel had been good. At eleven, on the dot, Clarissa Jones entered the hotel. Ten minutes later Ranger made a positive ID on the man who turned the corner onto Stark and walked hurriedly into the lobby. They waited another ten minutes before they left the SUV and made their way into the hotel. The desk clerk nodded his head slightly at Jeanne Ellen's questioning glance. She walked over to the desk and the clerk slid a key across the counter to her. She rejoined Ranger and they walked together toward room 101.

They stood quietly and waited until they heard the rhythmic thumping of a headboard against a wall. Jeanne Ellen raised her hand to put the key in the lock, but Ranger put out an arm to stop her.

"Be patient," he whispered in her ear. Motionless they waited as the headboard percussion solo changed tempo. Ranger nodded at Jeanne Ellen and she once again raised her hand to the door. The headboard was tapping the wall rapidly as the door swung silently inward.

They worked well as a team and, in consequence, Rodrigues and Jones were separated, dressed and cuffed without undue force. He let Jeanne Ellen take the lead and hustle their FTAs to the SUV. She was good at her job and took her responsibilities seriously and Ranger admired her for that. He winced a little as he remembered seeing her hands grasp Rodrigues' bare ass and lift him off her FTA. It was a new variation on _coitus interruptus_ and one Rodrigues wouldn't soon forget.

As they walked out of the Trenton PD, Joe Morelli was walking in. Ranger nodded to him, but Jeanne Ellen seemed in the mood to talk.

"Hey, Sgt. Morelli. You're in late tonight." She smiled at him and he responded in kind.

"I'm in a little early rather than late, but homicide never sleeps, and frequently neither does the homicide detective." Ranger noticed the body language. They were interested in one another. He'd thought things were heating up between Morelli and Stephanie, but maybe not. He turned to walk back to the SUV to give them some privacy and he heard Jeanne Ellen tell Morelli about their FTAs. When she noticed he was getting in the SUV she abruptly ended her conversation with Joe and made her way to the vehicle.

"Where to?" he asked her.

"Back to Les'," she said. They made the trip in silence, both of them occupied with their own thoughts. As they neared the office, Jeanne Ellen's hand reached out to caress his thigh. She slowly ran her fingers up and down the length of his leg. In other times he might have found the gesture provocative, but all he could think now was that his thigh was still tender from the gunshot wound he'd received from Lonnie Dodd.

He realized that other areas of his body were aching as well. The spot on his leg where he'd fractured his fibula on a jump gone bad was aching in much the same way as his thigh. He'd been forced to walk on the fractured leg for three days until the mission was completed. The fingers of his left hand that had been broken during a hostile interrogation after he'd been captured in Afghanistan were singing with a sharp pain. From a practical point he knew it meant the weather was going to change.

From a more contemplative point it meant he was getting old. He was still in prime physical shape, but each mission took more out of him and he recovered a little slower from injuries. It was a good thing RangeMan was coming to fruition. There was a reason the average age of an Army Ranger was twenty-four. Maybe Tank had the right idea giving up spec ops, but it was the easiest way to accumulate money fast and he was damn good at what he did.

Jeanne Ellen slid her hand off his leg and he looked over at her.

"I found Rodrigues for you," she said, "and I'm not asking for a share of the bounty, but you aren't going to walk away without paying. You're not backing out on me, Ranger." She ran her hands down her own thighs and shivered a little as she continued. "I have needs, and you owe me now."

There was something about a needy Jeanne Ellen that was very appealing to him, as she was mostly self-sufficient, but he wasn't going to pay her with his body. A sudden tightening in his groin made him realize he wasn't opposed to sex with Jeanne Ellen, but it wouldn't be payment of a debt owed.

"I don't owe you anything, Jeanne Ellen. I helped you as much as you helped me. But if you want to come together as consenting adults, then I think we can partner again tonight, in a way that's mutually pleasurable."

He pulled the SUV to a stop in front of Les Sebring's office and she flashed him a genuine smile. "Come up to Les' office with me. I have the key so I can leave my body receipt, and I'd like to show you the new Danish modern desk Les just bought. I think you'll enjoy it."

She unlocked the door and keyed in a security code. He followed her as she walked up the steps to Les' second floor office. His eyes were on her well-formed ass and he hardened with each step. They entered Les' office and he reached for the light switch, but she knocked his hand back. One eyebrow rose as he watched her, and waited to see what was next on her agenda.

She had removed her Kevlar vest after they'd turned Rodrigues and Jones over to the Trenton P.D. and she carried it over her arm as she walked to the window and drew curtains back to show a moon partially obscured by clouds. She bent and laid her vest down flat on the low credenza under the window, smoothing out wrinkles with capable hands. Ranger noted the care she took with a valuable piece of protective equipment. She straightened and stood framed by the window as she unhooked her utility belt. It hit the floor with a thunk that seemed to spark her into action. He stood motionless by the edge of Les Sebring's polished desk and watched her move across the room toward him. He sensed she wanted control and he was going to let her have it.

She released his utility belt and let it drop to the floor the same as she had with hers. Dexterous hands reached out to lower the zipper of his cargo pants, and with one strong yank they puddled around his ankles. She reached out and wrapped long sinewy fingers around the suddenly exposed length of him. He drew in a breath, but stayed still, letting her stroke him with a deft and thorough touch.

Jeanne Ellen let go long enough to unzip her own pants and toe off one boot. She stepped out of one leg of her pants and lost focus on herself as she looked at Ranger. Her hands reached out to him with sudden frenzied movements. She skimmed over muscular ridges, each arm moving in unsynchronized exploration. Jeanne Ellen slid her hands chaotically over his body. Her pupils were dilated under heavy lids and her breath was coming in short rapid gasps. He watched her burgeoning desire with interest. She'd gone from zero to sixty in seconds and while he found her hands on him pleasurable he was feeling more like an observer than a participant. When she leaped at him he was taken by surprise.

She shoved him forcefully back on Les' desk. Her hands remained on his shoulders as his head slammed into the hardwood. He saw stars. Before he could move she flung herself over him and took him wholly. She rode him wildly, setting her own pace. Bemused, but not displeased, Ranger let her take the lead. It was a new experience for him.

She was frenzied, moving over him. No longer content to be a non-participant, he angled himself up slightly from the desk and grasped her hips and pulled her down over him more fully. There was a long moan and a muttered 'no' from Jeanne Ellen. Her hands covered his and ripped them loose from her body. She fisted her hands and struck double blows to his chest, momentarily winding him and causing his head to once more ricochet off the desktop. Jeanne Ellen was a strong woman, on a serious mission.

Ranger silently marveled at the concentration tightening her features. Her rhythm changed as her back arched and her head lolled back on her shoulders. She was chanting something low and unintelligible, and he felt her tighten around him. Her still booted foot, with her cargos swingy wildly, was abrading his recent mostly-healed gunshot wound, but he realized she was too close to stop for a readjustment. He gave up his observation of Jeanne Ellen and concentrated on his own gratification. When he felt her go over the edge he let himself go with her and in a matter of moments Jeanne Ellen was slumped forward on his chest. As his brain slowly returned to thinking mode he realized what she'd been chanting. It had been _Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne_. When she came, she'd screamed her own name.

It was in some ways the most unique sex he'd ever had, but it was far from the best. Jeanne Ellen was still astride him catching her breath. As she started to lift herself off him, their eyes met for a moment. He might have called it a night, if it hadn't been for the tiny flash of smugness in her expression and the quickly veiled, but definitely present, glint of satisfaction in her eyes. It was the same look of malicious satisfaction he'd seen when she yanked Rodrigues off of her skip. Jeanne Ellen had taken her pleasure, but he knew he could have given her a far better experience if she'd allowed it.

His decision was instantaneous. She needed to learn to receive pleasure as well as take it. In one move he flipped her onto her back and pinned her hands above her head. He heard the dull thunk of her head hitting the desk and the crack of her elbow hitting the hard edge of a desk chair. He saw her eyes widen as the electric pain shot from her elbow down her forearm and he murmured an apology. Causing her pain was not his objective.

The desk slid sideways as he threw his weight forward and held her firmly in place on its smooth surface. He saw her eyes widen further when he began to move and he concentrated on giving her an experience she wouldn't forget. The heavy lidded desire was gone. Her gaze on him was intent with anticipation and excitement. He saw her eyes snap tightly shut as she became immersed in the sensations his movements were creating. He concentrated on the mission at hand. The next time they came, no one screamed her name.

It was raining as he left the Sebring bonds office, just as his earlier aches had predicted it would. His previous aches had subsided, but had been replaced with newer ones. There was a tender goose-egg under his ponytail where his head had hit the desk. His ribs were bruised where Jeanne Ellen's still booted foot had made contact with his side. It wasn't a purposeful injury. She'd been in the throes of a monumental orgasm, her whole body convulsing, when her foot had made contact with him, and he thought she'd been unaware of her kick. Jeanne Ellen was rarely unaware, so his sore ribs were a badge of merit for a job well done.

The Trenton sky should have been showing a pink tinge on its eastern border, but low gray clouds meant that it was still dark when he pulled into the parking garage underneath the Haywood building. As he slipped from the SUV his mind was occupied with thoughts of Jeanne Ellen searching for her clothes in Les' office. His lips curved slightly at the memory of her, trying to regain her composure, after they'd finished. She'd made it through the first round only half removing her pants and pushing her black thong to the side. Later, when it had gotten in his way, he'd torn it off and flung it into the far corner of the office. Her shirt and bra had followed, but he never did get around to removing her other boot.

She'd told him to go and he had. She was searching in the corner behind a potted plant, presumably for her thong, when he'd left. He knew this had been a one-time thing with Jeanne Ellen. His taking control had threatened her and she wouldn't be anxious to repeat it. It had been…interesting, but he wasn't disappointed to let the night remain a singular event. As he walked across the parking garage he became aware of Tank and Lester Santos standing in the stairwell door watching him.

"You should have called for back-up," Tank said. "Lester just got his BEA paperwork filed today, so we could have helped you."

"Yeah," Lester said. "It would have been like old times. It's been awhile since we've kicked ass together."

"It looked like Rodrigues was a nasty mother-fucker from what I read in his file," Tank said. "Did you get him all right? It looks like he got one or two in on you."

"I got Rodrigues without incident," Ranger said. He made a change in direction and decided to give his aching ribs and leg a break. He pushed his key fob to bring the elevator down.

"You look like you had the hell beat out of you. If it wasn't Rodrigues, what happened?" Tank asked.

Ranger hesitated. These were his two oldest buddies. He might as well tell them. "Jeanne Ellen Burrows."

Tank's eyes widened at the memory of Jeanne Ellen. Ranger read the interest in them and said, "I don't think it's going to work out between her and me, so feel free to give it a shot." He turned and stepped into the elevator.

"No thanks," Tank said as the door slipped closed on his wounded friend. "I like to be the man."

Lester Santos turned to Tank and said, "Can you introduce me?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: As always, I use them for fun, not profit.**

Chapter 6

The rain was relentless and it was forecasted to continue throughout the day. It was the kind of morning custom made for sleeping in, if you'd been lucky enough to get to bed in the first place. Ranger hadn't. Although it had been early when he'd arrived back at Haywood his list of things to accomplish for the day had been firmly planted in his mind. On top of everything else, he had to finish the review of employee applications he'd put on hold to capture Rodrigues.

Rising slowly from the chair, his muscles protesting, he made his way to the kitchen for his third cup of coffee. Drinking coffee in itself was an aberration and three cups was at least two over his limit, but today was going to be long and he needed the caffeine. As he made his way back to the soft leather chair and the pile of folders lying on the floor next to it, he heard the ding of his phone.

The text message caused him to frown. His softly uttered expletive was further evidence he was displeased. His day had just become even busier, because he wouldn't turn down a summons from Alexander Ramos.

His connection with Alexander Ramos had begun when he'd inadvertently done the family a favor. He'd been on special assignment in Nuevo Leon, and had taken out his target quickly and, he'd thought, anonymously. Ramos had widespread holdings in Mexico and when Ranger had returned to Trenton Ramos met with Ranger to thank him for taking care of one of his great enemies. Being in good graces with the Ramos family had been helpful to Ranger when he was establishing his street presence in Trenton.

Ramos was patriarch of a powerful gun running family cartel. He was the son of a wealthy Mexican business man and a famous Greek opera star. He'd been raised in Greece and had contacts all over the world. So even though his day was busy, Ranger would find the time to answer the texted summons to meet Alexander. It was a connection he wasn't ready to break yet.

A glance at his watch had him up and moving. He needed to turn in the body receipt to Connie. The money from Rodrigues' capture came at an opportune time. He was meeting with his accountant later in the day and the influx of cash into the RangeMan account would enable him to take another step toward his goal of a fully operational business.

Lights burned brightly in the reception area of Plum Bail Bonds. The sun should have been up hours before, but the heavy cloud cover made the illumination necessary. He could see the occupants of the room clearly, and he was surprised to see Stephanie inside. The only thing short of a bomb to pull her out of bed before noon on a day like this must have been a hot lead on her present FTA, Moses Bedemier. Lula was in some sort of urban cowgirl costume with a long duster, boots and a wide brimmed hat and Connie was wearing her usual uniform of tight skirt and tighter sweater. Stephanie's jeans and sweatshirt looked tame in comparison. Her wild hair was semi-successfully contained in a ponytail. Humidity was not her friend.

When the door opened three pairs of eyes turned toward him. Stephanie's blue eyes met his gaze while Lula and Connie stared somewhere below his waist. Ranger thought of looking down for a moment to see if his fly was unzipped, but decided against it, because acknowledgement of such a situation might be misconstrued as an invitation to remedy said situation, and he didn't want Lula's hands anywhere near his crotch.

"Congratulations," Stephanie said. "I hear you got Jesus Rodrigues last night."

"I got lucky," he said, smiling inwardly at his double entendre until the realization of what she'd said drove any thought of Jeanne Ellen out of his mind. He wanted to ask her how she'd heard, but he knew. Morelli had told her. If she was talking to Morelli regularly enough to have already heard about Rodrigues, then what the hell was Morelli doing giving Jeanne Ellen the big come on? He thought about asking Stephanie to step outside to talk privately, but the rain precluded that.

He noticed as he stared at her, there was a microscopic flake of donut glaze at the corner of her mouth. Lula and Connie were still staring at him if he was edible and Steph's forthright gaze held his in her usual asexual manner. He wondered how the expression in her eyes would change if he leaned forward and removed the speck of frosting with his tongue. He immediately berated himself for the thought. She had something going on with Morelli. He didn't think they were sleeping together yet, but they would. He'd seen the way Morelli looked at her, but then he'd also seen the way Morelli looked at Jeanne Ellen last night. He was going to have to keep a close watch on the cop.

Lula came out of her trance and moved her gaze up Ranger's body. She turned to Stephanie and grabbed her arm. "C'mon. I ain't got all day. Let's go catch us a bad guy."

There was a whoosh of wet air as the door slammed shut behind them. Ranger turned and handed the body receipt to Connie and she opened the leather bound book to write him a check. Ranger had known Connie since he first started pursuing his dream of owning RangeMan. He knew she was loyal and trustworthy and she handled Vinnie better than anyone he'd ever met. He wasn't into idle conversation, but uncharacteristically he started one with Connie. He wanted some information and he thought she'd give it to him.

"Is Lula working as a BEA now?" he asked.

"Lula is working as anything that will delay her filing," Connie replied. "Today she's acting as Steph's wheelman because Steph is a little, uh, vehicularly challenged."

Ranger frowned. "What happened to her car?"

Connie looked out the window and his gaze followed. "Huh," Connie said. "Looks like she got a new truck. Guess Lula's just keeping her company today." Ranger watched as Lula and Stephanie got into a small blue pick-up truck and motored away. The weather was turning colder and the rain was still heavy. A small truck was the wrong vehicle for the weather conditions. He mentally ran his inventory, wondering what he had that would be suitable for her. He'd discuss it with Tank.

He pulled himself back to the present and accepted the check from Connie. She handed him a file folder as well. "We've got another FTA if you want it. It isn't your usual big bond, but Steph's got a couple of FTAs right now and I don't know how much more she can handle."

"I'll take it," he said opening the folder to read. Melvin Morley III was charged with armed robbery and assault with a deadly weapon. He was six foot six inches and two hundred fifty pounds of ugly. If Vinnie was giving skips like this to Steph she must have improved greatly since he'd last helped her. They'd partner on this one. He wanted to judge for himself just how far she'd come.

As he stepped out into the miserable day he checked his watch. The text from Ramos, or more likely from one of his henchmen, said Ramos wanted to see him at eleven. It didn't say where, but Ranger knew.

The Whiplash Bar and Grill was a dive and at eleven in the morning it was mostly empty. Ranger had no problem recognizing Ramos' men standing guard on either side of a door on the far wall of the bar. He walked across the room, not making eye contact with anyone. He saw the bartender signal the men at the door with a slight head nod and they stepped aside as he approached. He swung the door open and saw two things at once.

Alexander Ramos was gnawing on a piece of rare steak, and there was only one place set at the table. This wasn't going to be a lunch meeting after all. If things went smoothly he could be back at RangeMan enjoying some of Ella's healthy cooking within the hour.

Ranger stood unmoving and watched Ramos scoop up a handful of limp fries and drag them through a puddle of ketchup. He knew Ramos was inclined to treat him favorably, but he didn't trust the man and he didn't think Ramos trusted him completely either.

Ramos didn't look up. "My brother is dying," he said though a mouthful of half-chewed greasy fries. Whatever Ranger had expected to hear, that wasn't it. Alexander Ramos had only one brother and he was a half-brother of pure Greek heritage. Nikolas Kouris ran the legitimate side of the family business. Ranger knew that because some months ago Kouris had sold him the building on Haywood. Ranger had used all his resources to investigate Kouris. He never found anything untoward, but the lack of evidence of any wrongdoing on the part of Kouris hadn't entirely convinced Ranger of his sterling business practices. In any case, Kouris owned the building on Haywood free and clear and he sold it to Ranger at a very attractive price. It was never verbalized, but Ranger knew it was their way of paying him back for the favor he supposedly did their family in Nuevo Leon.

"He wants to see you," Alexander said. "It has to be today. He wants to see you today because he might not be here tomorrow. It's the cancer. He's in hospice." Ramos pulled a small card out of his breast pocket and held it out to Ranger. Ranger moved forward to take the card from him.

"What does he want to see me about?" Ranger asked.

"I dunno," Alexander shrugged his shoulders and looked Ranger in the eye for the first time. "It's like it's his dying wish, so I know you won't disappoint him."

Ranger looked at the Hamilton Street address on the card and thought his lunch at RangeMan would be a late one. He nodded to Ramos and turned and walked through the door.

The locks on the door at the hospice house were electric and set to alarm. He knew he could be inside in a matter of seconds, and he thought about doing so to show them they needed to let RangeMan handle their security. He wanted to get in and out with as little fuss as possible, so he abandoned his line of thought and with a mental sigh he depressed the doorbell button. The door was answered almost immediately by a pretty blonde nurse wearing bright scrubs.

"I'm here to see Nikolas Kouris," he told her.

She stared up at him for a moment and then her face lit in recognition. "Ranger?" she asked. At his nod she continued. "Nikki is expecting you. He told us you'd come and I'm so glad you did. He's refusing pain meds as he wanted to have a clear head when you got here. He said you had some important business to discuss." Ranger followed her down the hallway to a large room at the back of the house. It could have been a den in any suburban home except for the hospital bed pushed against the far wall. The bed was empty and Nikolas Kouris was lounging in a recliner, his legs and lower body covered with a blanket. He had never been a large man, but Ranger could see the ravages of the cancer. He looked frail and it was easy to believe he was on his deathbed.

With no preamble Nikolas asked him, "Are you living in the penthouse?" Ranger nodded.

"What did you do to it?" Kouris asked. "Did you remodel it? Do construction?"

Ranger was perplexed by the questioning, but he answered. "There was some remodeling in the kitchen and the bathroom. I think the rest of the apartment would fall into the redecorating category."

"What about the closet?" Kouris asked. "Did you do construction? Do you know?"

"My mother handled the remodel, and as far as I know there was only painting and carpeting done in the bedroom, dressing room and closet."

"Then you don't know." A small smile played across Kouris' face and he leaned back in the recliner, breathing heavily. Ranger stayed quiet. He didn't know. He didn't have a clue as to what the man was talking about. Maybe the cancer was making him crazy.

Kouris pointed to a chair. "Pull that chair next to me and close the door. I have a story to tell you."

Ranger pulled the chair closer and looked obliquely at his watch. He had no desire to disrespect a dying man, but he had other things to accomplish. He sat quietly, his impatience hidden and waited for Kouris to begin.

"The building was built in 1981," Kouris began. "I only stayed in that apartment occasionally, when I had to be in Trenton for business. Is it your primary residence?"

Ranger hesitated, "Much like you, I stay there when I'm in Trenton." He wasn't going to give the details of his life to Alexander Ramos' brother, dying man or not.

"In 1981, things were hard in my homeland. The Middle East was even more of a hotbed than it is now and Alexander's business was growing rapidly. He took risks and had many enemies." Ranger nodded slightly. Ramos was probably supplying guns to opposing countries in the Middle East. His biggest 'enemy' undoubtedly had been the United States government, and yet through it all he had survived and flourished.

"I was an honest business man," Kouris continued, "but I was afraid Alex's enemies would come after me. I was uncomfortable living in the penthouse of my building. There was only one way in and out." Ranger began to listen more intently. He'd been bothered by the fact that while his apartment was very secure, there was only one way in and out. He'd put the issue to the back of his mind while he was building RangeMan, but it was something he knew he would address eventually.

"What I'm about to tell you is known only by me. My time is short, so I am going to share my secret with you. I don't want it to die with me." Kouris sat quiet for a few moments seemingly lost in thought. His eyes were shadowed by dark circles and his head lay back against the chair. Ranger realized Alexander Ramos had been right. His brother might not live through another day. His impatience eased and he waited for the old man to continue.

"I hired an architect from Athens. He and his partner worked on and off for two years, and they told no one. No one knows, just me and now you." He fell silent and closed his eyes. Ranger wasn't sure if he was sleeping or reminiscing, or if he was really in his right mind, because Kouris hadn't told him anything.

"The plans show it to be an air-return shaft of the air conditioning," Kouris said abruptly. "But it's a secret staircase. It's small, because I am a small man, but it will work for you." Ranger sat forward with interest as Kouris told him of his secret escape and how to access it.

"You are the only other person that knows," Kouris said in conclusion.

"Except for the builders," Ranger said. "What was the name of the architect?"

"There was an accident. They are dead." Ranger raised an eyebrow and stared at the old man.

Nikolas Kouris shrugged his shoulders. "I know what you're thinking," he said quietly. "But it was an accident. Alexander knows nothing of this endeavor. We are close, but we both have our secrets. He knows nothing of this. Six months after the staircase was complete an entire block was bombed in Athens. Their firm was completely destroyed. You have a secret, and unless your builder knows, we are the only two."

Ranger thought of Woody. He was almost certain nothing except painting had been done to the bedroom and dressing room. He would have talk with Woody, but he thought Kouris was right. He had another secret to keep.

Ranger sat for a moment taking it all in and then stood to leave. As if on cue the nurse appeared in the doorway with a syringe. Apparently, the pain meds had been delayed long enough and she was there to care for her patient.

As he stepped back onto the street cold wind and rain slammed into him. He wondered about Stephanie and her blue truck. Stephanie. Without warning he threw his head up to the freezing rain and laughed out loud. He'd accused her once, of emulating Nancy Drew. It seemed never to be a simple case of finding her FTA. There was always some unexpected element she ferreted out. He remembered his sisters and their fascination with Nancy Drew, and he remembered the book 'The Secret of the Hidden Staircase'. Stephanie might play at being Nancy Drew, but he was the one with the secret staircase, and it was going to remain a secret.

Four hours later Ranger looked at himself in the full length mirror of his dressing room. He'd never made a conscious decision to dress entirely in black, it had just happened. Dressing was easy when the wardrobe was monotone, and while vanity was not one of his faults he recognized he was a well-built, handsome man. He recognized it in much the same way a person would recognize their hair or eye color. It was just a fact. There had been times when his appearance had gotten him along paths others couldn't traverse, so he used his looks for what they were, a sometimes invaluable tool.

He quickly knotted his tie. His black cashmere suit was meticulous and his gaze shifted from his own reflection to the cedar paneled back wall of the room. That was for later though, so he pushed back his curiosity and took one last look at himself. Satisfied, he turned out the light and left his apartment. He had a dinner meeting with his accountant and if she agreed with his assessment it was time for RangeMan to take a giant step forward.

As he exited the stairwell and walked across the garage he saw Woody conferring with two workmen. He detoured to walk over to them. "Woody, will you be available later this evening, say around ten? I'd like to go over the progress of the remodeling with you."

"Yes, sir," Woody said. "We've just put the finishing touches on your office on five. Do you want to meet there?" Ranger nodded his assent and made his way back to the row of vehicles. He bypassed his Mercedes and hopped into a recently delivered BMW. As he pulled out of the garage and into traffic he checked the Mont Blanc chronograph on his wrist. He grunted a small sigh of satisfaction. He was going to be early and that had been the plan.

Holly Reynolds' breath caught in her throat. Across the dimly lit restaurant she saw Carlos Mañoso sitting at a table set for two; he looked so much like his father. She knew the table had been selected for its privacy because they would be discussing business, but it was easy to imagine another man sitting at the table and in that scenario the table would have been chosen for its intimacy. She stared at Carlos imagining it was his father. Imagining the dark chocolate eyes would rise from the menu he so carefully studied and beckon her to his side.

When eyes did raise and catch her gaze she was startled to see the eyes of the father set into the face of the son. She did a mental head shake and removed thoughts of Ricardo Mañoso from her mind. She was here to see the son, not the father and it was all business. It had always been all business, even with Ricardo.

Ricardo Mañoso was a one woman man and Claudia was his woman. Holly's unrequited feelings had always stayed hidden, and tonight was not the time to let them run free. She smiled as the maître d' came forward to escort her across the room to Carlos. He stood as she approached the table and remained standing as she was seated. Like his father, his manners were impeccable.

It might have seemed unusual to some that business was being conducted over an evening meal in one of the most elegant restaurants in Newark, but they both understood why. Carlos had need of an accountant he could trust and who better to choose than the woman who had served his father so well. At the same time he wanted to keep the details of RangeMan far from his family. RangeMan wasn't a secret, but he wanted to keep the terms of his personal financial involvement in his company as quiet as possible. Meeting away from an office setting was a good way to do it.

Holly realized the menu she thought he'd been studying was not a menu at all, but rather a leather portfolio. He handed it across the table to her. Before she could question his motive, the wine steward came to the table side and made a small production of serving them with champagne.

"Carlos, champagne at a business meeting?" she asked.

"Look at the portfolio," he said. "If you agree with my estimates, then I think this will be a dinner of celebration." They conducted their business conversation quietly and the onlooker from the other corner of the room was easily misled into thinking she was watching a romantic rendezvous.

Tulia Campos smiled at her escort, but she was oblivious to his social chatter. It appeared Carlos had replaced her and she looked derisively at his companion. She was old, at least ten years older than Carlos. What could he possibly see in her? She wasn't even Cuban. With her curly, dull brown hair pulled back off her face and her simply cut business suit she looked like she was closer to his mother's age than she was to his. The woman listened so intently to Carlos, it was easy to see she was enamored of him. She must have been so eager for his companionship she made no demands on him. Even so, Carlos was surely able to do better than this old hen. Maybe she would get rid of Rogay, she thought as she smiled absently at her escort. Maybe Carlos would come back.

Tulia watched them throughout their meal. Their conversation was non-stop and she wondered what Carlos found so interesting about her. When the woman rose and made her way to the ladies' room, Tulia immediately excused herself and made her way there as well. She didn't follow the woman in. Instead she turned and walked back to Carlos' table.

"Carlos," she said. "I am so sorry for you." He looked up to see Tulia Campos in a black dress he recognized as one he had bought for her. His face was impassive, showing no hint of his irritation, so she continued.

"You gave me up in haste, Carlos, darling. I want to let you know I forgive you and you can come see me anytime. I can give much more pleasure than the one you are with tonight. She's cold. There is no fire in her, Carlos, but there is fire in me."

He was puzzled for a moment until he realized Tulia thought Holly was his date. He looked across the room to see Holly coming back toward him noticing for the first time she was an attractive woman. She was ten or twelve years his senior, but she had a trim, lithe figure and only the smallest of laugh lines at the corners of her eyes. He realized with a jolt, she looked a little like Stephanie, and in fact this is what Stephanie could easily grow into in the years to come. He stood as Holly arrived at the table. "You'll excuse me, Tulia, but my date and I were just leaving." He put his hand on the small of Holly's back and turned her so Tulia wouldn't see the surprised look in Holly's eyes, and they made their way to the door leaving Tulia standing at their table.

As they exited the building Ranger took Holly's ticket and gave it to the valet. "I apologize," he said. "That was Tulia Campos, one of my less well thought out decisions, and she thought you were my girlfriend. I let her think it."

Holly looked startled for a moment and then she laughed. "I'm very flattered she thought a man of your stature and youth would be interested in a middle aged accountant." He felt surprise at hearing himself referred to as young, because it had been a long time since he'd felt young and even longer since he'd thought of himself as young. He saw Holly into her car and walked off to get into his own. He had a meeting with Woody, and then in the morning a meeting with Tank. Holly had agreed with him. He could increase his staff by ten and RangeMan was going to soon be fully functioning.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Ranger politely refused the butterscotch pudding, while Stephanie helped herself to a double serving. In all fairness to her, she didn't know what he had planned for the evening. He thought even if she'd known she wouldn't have forgone dessert. Probably the adrenaline would kick in anyway and counter act any sluggishness she'd have from the sugar. His pocket vibrated and he pulled out his phone to read the text. Morley was in the bar and he would stay there for the next couple of hours.

He didn't really need her help, but he wanted to assess her skills. They'd been working together to bring in Uncle Mo, but he didn't think that was a fair test. She depended upon him when he was there. Tonight he was going to let her go on her own and see just how she did. Things never went as planned when Stephanie was in the mix.

It wasn't really her fault Uncle Mo stole his BMW, but she blamed herself. If he was totally honest with himself, he'd been distracted by Stephanie and her disheveled appearance, as well as her complete lack of self-consciousness about her attire. He found it…appealing. It was his own distraction that had given Uncle Mo the chance to take the BMW. He thought a good capture would help her self-confidence and he was hoping it would happen tonight.

It was unusual for Ranger to feel guilt, but he did feel guilty at the lack of time he'd spent training his Eliza. RangeMan was consuming most of his life and he'd mistakenly thought Morelli was keeping a close eye on Steph. Stephanie and Joe Morelli were currently adversarial because she thought Morelli was keeping information from her. Ranger was sure he was. In Morelli's position he'd have done the same thing, but he wasn't in Morelli's position and he was inclined to help Steph.

The Plum family table was far distant from the elegant dining room where the Mañosos gathered and yet Ranger felt at home. He hadn't minded Stephanie's granny asking him if he was a Negro, and as for the question about sex with animals, he thought it was a natural question coming from people related to Vinnie. He watched with interest Stephanie's total acceptance of her slightly eccentric family and once again he admired her tolerance and lack of censure.

Ranger's musings were cut short by the realization that Stephanie's pudding bowl was empty. He thanked Mrs. Plum for the meal, shook hands with Frank Plum and charmed Stephanie's granny by saying, "I enjoyed our conversation, Edna." It wasn't a lie. Edna Mazur was, at times, frightening, but she was unique. He appreciated that about her and he recognized her spirit of adventure and curiosity. He'd seen it in more controlled measures in her granddaughter.

As he made his way to the door, his phone rang. The timing couldn't have been better. He answered his phone and listened for a moment and then turned to Stephanie. "I have a skip in a bar. You wanna ride shotgun?" He looked over his shoulder to make sure her grandmother hadn't heard. He didn't want two partners. When she nodded, he said quietly, "Bring your gun."

He saw Stephanie bite her bottom lip as she pulled herself up in to the passenger seat of the Explorer. He read the expression on her face. "It wasn't your fault, Babe. I'd be driving the Explorer tonight in any case. This is better for hauling FTAs," he said. "The BMW is replaceable, and you are not responsible, so quit worrying about it."

"It was my fault," Stephanie insisted. "I asked for your help. And I looked it up online. I know how much that car cost. I hope the PD can recover it for you."

"For the last time, it wasn't your fault and the car can be replaced," Ranger said. He knew he sounded abrupt, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want her worrying about the car any longer.

"The fault was mine," he continued. "I was distracted, or Mo would never have gotten the jump on me."

"Hunh," Stephanie snorted. "You're the most focused person I know. What could have possibly distracted you?" The interior of the Explorer was dark, lit only by the dashboard lights, but she could see the way he looked at her, his eyes roaming from her hair, down her face, and lingering on her slightly parted lips. He stayed quiet for a moment, considering. His eyes were unwavering and intense and she felt as though he was looking into the very secret center of her.

He opened his mouth and closed it, and opened it again. She sensed reticence, which was something she wouldn't have expected from Ranger. His voice was low and husky. "You."

Me? She thought. I distracted Ranger. The way he was looking at her and the way he'd said it caused a little tremor to run through her. For the moment, her obsession with Joe Morelli was completely non-existent. She'd distracted Ranger and that was both scary and exciting. Her eyes widened, and her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip. He was still staring at her and she felt heat flush her cheeks.

Ranger's breath was gone and he couldn't pull in more air, so he just sat there a moment, familiar with the feeling. He'd been kicked in the solar plexus before. Stephanie had just shown him, for the first time, she was aware of him as a man. Her response had been a surprise. His response had caught him totally unaware. Along with the inability to breathe he was responding physically to her in a way that would be noticeable if she looked down.

After a few seconds he tried again and drew in a slow deep breath, and systematically shut his emotions down. There was no room inside him for feelings like that about Stephanie. She was his student, she was possibly involved with another man and, he thought most importantly, she was becoming his friend. He wasn't going to act like a horny adolescent around her. He pulled the gear lever into drive and centered his thoughts on driving to Ed's Place. They had an FTA to catch.

The bar wasn't crowded and the minute they walked through the door Ranger realized his plan to let Stephanie take the lead wasn't going to work. Ed was behind the bar and he knew Ranger and what he was there for. Ed's discreet head tilt told Ranger everything he needed to know. Melvin Morley was in the men's room. Ranger turned toward Stephanie and said, "You cover the door Babe, he's in the men's room. I'll go get him." The bar was quiet with no juke box, and conversations were hushed. Stephanie had no problem hearing Ranger's footsteps down the hall.

Ranger stopped in front of the men's room door and listened. There was no sound. He knocked and there was no answer and when he placed his hand on the door knob he found it to be locked. He had a bad feeling. He pulled his glock and readied himself, then he raised his leg and kicked out quickly and precisely, his foot striking the door just below the lock. He leaned into the kick, his body following his leg into the room and he was ready to take Morley down. It took less than a half-second to register the open window and the empty space.

He holstered his gun, turned and ran down the hall back into the barroom. "He went out the window," he told Stephanie who turned and followed him out of the bar. Ed's Place was in the middle of the block. Ranger looked both directions and said, "You go left. I'll go right and we'll get him in the alley."

Stephanie didn't question Ranger. Her heart was beating so fast she couldn't get in a deep breath but she turned left and ran to the end of the block. She rounded the corner and headed for the dark entrance of the alley. She tripped on the uneven pavement and fell forward landing on her hands and knees. She felt the burn as her knees skidded on the pavement and it took her a moment to gather herself and get back on her feet. She looked up to see Morley run from the mouth of the alley and she took off after him down the street. As she passed the alley entry way Ranger came running out and passed her. They saw Morley run into the front door of a townhouse a half block ahead of them.

"You take the alley and cover the back," Ranger said. "I'll go in after him." They parted and Stephanie did as she was told. She made it to the alley and everything seemed to be quiet. Slowly she made her way closer to the door trying in vain to pull her pepper spray from her belt as she walked. She looked up in time to see Morley barreling out the back door and right into her. They went down together, but Morley hit the ground first. She found herself straddling him.

Ranger halted at the top of the steps. Morley was spread-eagled on the ground and Stephanie was sitting astride him, her back to Ranger. He could tell by the tension in her shoulders she had a tight grasp on Morley's shirt. He thought he heard her say, "Hey, big boy," and then she was airborne. She landed next to Morley and grabbed hold of his pant leg.

"Help!" she yelled. "HELLLLLLP!" Ranger fought the instinct to jump in. He wanted to see what she could do.

Morley hauled her up by her armpits and held her in front of him with her feet dangling. "Dumb white bitch," he said. He began shaking her and Ranger saw her head snapping back and forth. He stayed unmoving but had his gun out of the holster. He wouldn't let it go much farther.

"F-f-fugitive apprehension agent," Stephanie said. "Y-y-you're under arrest."

"Nobody's arresting me," Morley said. "I'll kill anyone who tries."

She flailed her arms and swung her legs, and the toe of her CAT boot connected with Morley's knee.

"Ouch," Morley yelled.

His big hairy fists released her, and his leg buckled as he fell. She staggered back a couple feet and knocked into Ranger who pulled her tight against him with his free hand.

"Hey, big boy?" Ranger said softly in her ear.

"I thought it might distract him."

Morley was on the ground rolling side to side. "She broke my knee," he said on a gasp. "She broke my fucking knee."

"Think it was your boot that distracted him," Ranger said.

"So if you were standing there the whole time, why didn't you help me?"

"Didn't look like you needed any help, Babe. What you need is serious physical conditioning." Ranger stepped forward and cuffed Morley who was making an attempt to stand. They walked him back to the Explorer and made their way to the Trenton PD headquarters.

Maybe it was the adrenaline or maybe it was the last dregs of the flare of attraction she'd felt earlier. Or maybe it was that Morelli was treating her more like a suspect than a girlfriend. She didn't know why she did it, but as she stood next to the open passenger door of the Explorer she turned to Ranger. "So I need physical conditioning. What'd you have in mind… Big Boy?"

Ranger looked at her for a long moment. It was the excitement of the capture, probably. She was coming on to him and it was his fault. He shouldn't have told her she'd distracted him. It didn't matter if he was attracted or not. Stephanie didn't ever need to know what he'd had in mind.

"Better you don't know, Babe. I'll surprise you so you won't have to worry about it."

They got in the Explorer and he drove her back to the Burg. When they pulled up in front of her parents' house he saw the adrenaline was gone. She sat a little less erect and she looked tired.

"I'll have Connie split the recovery check," Ranger said. "You can pick it up at the bonds office."

"That's not necessary," Stephanie said. "He was your skip."

"It is necessary, Babe. We're working partners, and you apprehended Morley. You deserve half."

Stephanie didn't argue, but she wanted to. Something had changed tonight and she wasn't sure she could define the change. It would be crazy to view Ranger as anything other than a working partner, but for a moment she'd considered him differently. She wasn't quite sure what differently meant. Ranger was scary and she didn't want to delve into anything deeper with him. But she had to agree with Lula. The man was hot. She looked up to see him watching her and blushed. She had a habit of thinking out loud and although she knew she hadn't this time, it was as if he was listening to her think, as if he was inside her head. Suddenly she wanted a donut, or more butterscotch pudding, and she was a little worried. What did Ranger mean when he said 'serious physical conditioning'? It turned out she didn't have to wait long to see what Ranger had in mind.

It was the second day and although he didn't know it at the time, it would be his last for a while. The first day had been fun, silently entering her apartment and surprising her while she was still in her bed. He knew she wasn't a morning person, and he was amused by her Oscar the Grouch persona. It hadn't taken him long to get her to acquiesce and she'd ran with constant complaints, but she'd stayed the course as best she could. Today she'd been expecting him, with pots and pans stacked in front of her door to warn her of his presence. He hadn't been able to steal a few moments watching her sleep.

Her enthusiasm for running was less than the day before and he was already thinking of other ways for her to train. Now with sweatpants torn at the knees and a sharp burning pain a constant reminder, he knew early morning runs were not the optimal training method for Stephanie Plum, BEA. He moved his left leg gingerly as he slid his feet from the Explorer to the floor of the RangeMan garage.

A pulled groin muscle, for fuck's sake. He hadn't had an injury like that since, he didn't know when. He always stretched and warmed up before running and this morning had been no exception. Stephanie had been running behind him for most of the morning, and when they went to the track he'd lapped her several times. She was trying to hide the fact she was eating a chocolate bar as she ran. He'd seen her and he should have said something, but he didn't want to discourage her. She was looking for an excuse to quit and he'd been determined not to give her one.

He tried to remember how it had happened, but all he could come up with is that she'd turned away from him as he lapped her and kicked her heels extra high in a feeble attempt at a sprint. She caught him in the knee much the way she'd caught Morley, a few nights before, and he knew he was going down. He'd twisted to avoid landing on her and ended up laying on the track in pain. A lot of pain.

He limped toward the elevator and took a quick glimpse at his watch. It was still early. He could stop by his office on five and pick up some work to take up to his apartment. He'd lay low and catch up on some of the paper-work he needed to attend to. If the pain didn't get any better he'd let Bobby take a look at him, but he wanted to keep it quiet.

As he walked carefully into his office Tank, Lester and Bobby materialized behind him and followed him in. Tank was the only one with balls enough to ask, "What happened? I thought you were doing some early morning training of your, er, student. Where'd you run into trouble?"

Ranger sighed. The problem with owning a security company was that every move he made was under surveillance. He leaned his head out of the office and looked down toward the bank of monitors. His newest employee Vince was sitting in front of a grouping of monitors, his concentration complete.

"Vince called us over to the monitors," Tank said. "As soon as he saw you could barely walk, he became concerned."

"It's a pulled groin muscle," Ranger said. "It's not a serious one, but I'm just guarding it a little."

"What the hell happened?" Lester asked. They'd seen Ranger in many serious situations and he'd come through mostly unscathed. In the few short weeks he'd been with RangeMan he'd heard tales of Ranger being shot in the leg, and seen him coming limping home in the early morning twice now. Civilian life was taking its toll on his former commanding officer.

"Did someone jump you?" Tank asked.

Ranger didn't answer immediately. They wouldn't understand why he was training a woman, who apparently didn't want to be trained. Hell, he didn't even understand it himself. He knew they were waiting for an answer, which he didn't have to give. He picked up the folder he'd come after and started to walk out, fully prepared to ignore the question. The three men, who were the cornerstone he was building RangeMan on, stood and watch him limp past with concerned expressions on their faces. He sighed and looked at Tank and answered the question simply.

"Stephanie Plum."

"The BEA you're helping?" Tank asked sounding surprised.

"Yes," Ranger responded as he limped closer to the elevator door. The sound of Lester Santos' laugh echoing off the command center walls caused Ranger to stop in mid-stride and turn around. Santos was grinning wildly and as had happened many times in their past he spoke without thinking.

"This is the second time I've seen you come limping home in the early morning after a night with a woman. I want this one's phone number. She wounded you, so she might kill me, but what a way to go." Santos was smiling, Tank was frowning and Bobby was shaking his head slowly.

Ranger turned to Bobby and said, "How's the infirmary downstairs coming along?"

"Fine," Bobby replied. "It all stocked and ready to use. Did you want to look at it now?" It was Bobby's way of asking if Ranger needed medical attention.

"No," Ranger replied. "I'll let you give us the tour tomorrow, right after I show Lester the physical conditioning facilities that have just been completed."

"You think you're in any condition to spar with me?" Santos challenged. "I guess I could take it easy on you since you're injured."

"Shut the hell up, before he decides to take you downstairs now, Santos," Tank growled. "Ranger could kick your ass one legged and one armed, and you know it." They were silent as Ranger, ignoring their conversation, made his way to the elevator.

As the door to the elevator closed, Lester Santos sighed. This was another phone number he apparently wasn't going to get.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 8

Ranger pulled the BMW into the small parking lot and looked in his mirror to see Stephanie following him in the Explorer. Benny, the attendant, came over and stood as Ranger exited the car.

"Ms. Plum and I will be here only a short time, Benny. I've called an associate to come pick up the Explorer." Benny nodded his understanding, and they both turned to watch Stephanie pull into the lot.

Ranger walked back to the Explorer and opened the door. He held his hand out to her and steadied her as she slid to the concrete. "Give your keys to Benny, Babe. He'll take care of the Explorer." It would have been easier to have Stephanie follow him to the garage on Haywood, but RangeMan wasn't quite ready for visitors yet. He liked having her as an adjunctive part of his life, but he was hesitant to bring her into RangeMan. The building on Haywood wasn't a secret and neither was his involvement with Stephanie, but he was content to keep the two separate. He knew Stephanie and Lula had discussed his private life on several occasions. He'd overheard them more than once. It was natural they were curious about his residence, but he wasn't quite ready to give up all his secrets. Bringing Stephanie to the office on Cameron Street killed two birds with one stone. It kept her away from Haywood and it would appease a little of her curiosity.

The office on Cameron had served its purpose. He didn't use it often now that he had a functioning office on Haywood, but he was loathe to let it go. It had become a necessity to have a place to keep his private life private and the office had worked well. His mother and father had always respected his privacy, but his sisters had been a different story, and the office was one place he could organize all his business interests away from the sometimes overt nosiness of his siblings. The RangeMan office was now performing that function, still there were certain sectors of his life he wanted to keep separate from RangeMan. He'd heard Lula refer to him as a man of mystery. It pleased him, because that meant he'd been successful at keeping his private business out of the public eye.

"You live here?" Stephanie asked him as they made their way into the building.

"It's my office," Ranger said.

"You have an office?"

"Nothing fancy. It helps to keep the businesses straight."

The lobby of the building was clean and plain with two elevators on the left with a tenant directory on the wall between the elevators. Stephanie read the directory as they waited for the arrival of the elevator.

"You're not listed," she said. "And what kind of businesses are we talking about?"

Ranger, impatient with waiting, moved past the elevators to the stairs. "Don't need to be listed," he said. "My businesses are mostly security related. Bodyguard, debris removal, security consultation. Fugitive apprehension, of course."

Ranger had started up the stairs as he spoke, and Stephanie hurried to follow him. There was no sign of the limp he'd had after their running accident and she was glad of that. They turned the corner at the landing and headed up the second flight of stairs. "What's debris removal?" she questioned.

"Sometimes a landlord wants to clean up his property. I can put together a team to do the job."

"You mean like throwing crack dealers out the window?"

Ranger passed the second floor and kept going. He shook his head. "Only on the lower floors. You throw them out the upper-story windows and it makes too much of a mess on the sidewalk." He was making a joke, she hoped. Stephanie was relieved to see him walk down the hall to a door marked 311. She could have made another flight, but she didn't want Ranger to hear her breathing. She wasn't ready for more running, and he wasn't even the slightest bit out of breath.

Ranger slid a key card into the lock and punched in a code on the numeric key pad above it, and the door swung inward. He stood back and watched with amusement as Stephanie looked inside. It was an office, no more or less. There were no boxes of illegal guns, or ammo stacked in the corner, and no evidence of any personal information. She and Lula would still have plenty of mysteries to wonder about, but at least Stephanie could tell Lula she'd seen his office. That might keep the two of them from nosing into his business for a while.

He checked his mail and, unsurprisingly, found nothing urgent so they made their way back down to the parking lot. The Explorer was gone and he knew she had questions, but he wasn't offering and she was apparently not asking.

"You need to find Uncle Mo, Babe," he told her. "I'm tired of this guy, time to bring him in." He'd told her all along, it was just a car, but he'd been relieved when Moses Bedemeir had called him and thanked him for the loan of his BMW. It had been his grandfather's car and there was a certain sentimental attachment to it.

Ranger had business to attend to, and it worried him to leave Stephanie on her own, as the Uncle Mo business was turning up a lot of dead bodies, and dead bodies should never be part of fugitive apprehension. It couldn't be helped though, his student was going to have to fly solo for a while. There was RangeMan work to be done.

Two days later Ranger was at his desk on five with a pile of paperwork in front of him. He hadn't heard from Stephanie, but he'd been monitoring the situation, and Morelli seemed to be closely involved. He wasn't sure if Morelli was sticking close because he was interested in Stephanie, or interested in keeping track of Stephanie. Either way, Ranger acknowledged it eased the pressure on him. Stephanie was making her way through the learning curve, and her instincts were keen, but she still had a long journey ahead of her.

He looked at the clock and decided to work just another hour before he left the office and went to his apartment. It was past dinner time and he knew Ella would have something waiting for him when he called. It seemed the paper work was never ending, but he dealt with it. Paperwork resulted from business, and considering the newness of RangeMan, business was good.

His musings were interrupted by Tank standing in the door way to his office. "Pull up the feed from beta group, monitor eight," Tank said. "There's something you might be interested in seeing." Ranger turned to his monitor and did as Tank said. Tank came over to look over his shoulder.

"We're keeping surveillance on a strip motel over in Newark. Looking for Dante Callavero. He's the big bond skip that Jeanne Ellen Burrows called for help with. And look what we found." Tank reached over Ranger's shoulder to tap the keyboard. "It's on a loop." Tank told him.

Ranger watched with interest and surprise when he saw the man on the video escorting a blonde woman into the hotel room was not Dante Callavero. He leaned in and focused on the man who was playfully pulling the woman into the room. The video ended as the door closed and the screen flickered while it relooped and began to play again.

This time Ranger was prepared to take a closer look. "Morelli?" he asked.

"That's who I think it is," Tank said, "but I thought you said he was involved with Stephanie Plum."

"Guess there's all kinds of involved," Ranger said. "The real time on this video was just three minutes ago, right?"

Tank nodded. "The motel is a twenty minute drive from here. Think it'd take him more than twenty to do the job?"

Ranger pushed the shut-down button on his computer. "One way to find out." He was out of his chair and moving toward the stair-well door. "Let's go do some surveillance." Tank followed without comment although he was surprised at Ranger's reaction. He'd shown him the video because he thought Ranger would be interested, but he hadn't anticipated the level of Ranger's response.

Twenty minutes later they were parked across the street from the motel with a good view of the room they thought Joe Morelli was in. What Morelli did in his spare time was nobody's business, least of all RangeMan's business, but Ranger felt a need to know. Whether he'd share his knowledge with Stephanie was something he'd consider later. He and Tank waited in silence.

Another half-hour passed before there was any action. "They must have had the room for an hour," Tank said as he and Ranger watched the door swing inward. Morelli and the blonde woman sauntered out, their arms entwined. Ranger stared and Tank shot video with the digital night vision camera curved into his big palm.

"Let's roll," Ranger said. "And get this video and our RangeMan surveillance to Rodriguez quick. I don't want him off duty until we have a positive ID on the woman."

"You want it priority?" Tank seemed a little puzzled at Ranger's directive.

"Top." The reply was terse and Tank filed the information away. This was unconventional behavior for Ranger. Something to consider.

The answer from Rodriguez came early the next afternoon. Tank took the information and read it over before he went to Ranger's office.

"I've got the info on the blonde woman," he told Ranger. Ranger looked up from his work and held his hand out for the file.

"Have a seat," he told Tank. "I've been drawing up RangeMan organizational charts. Take a look at this." He scooped up a handful of paper and passed it to Tank. Tank settled his bulk into the black Eames chair and was surprised at its comfort.

"Damn," he said. "I guess Woody's not just another pretty face. This is one ugly, but comfortable chair. Is he good for anything else besides decorating?"

"Take a close look at the chart," Ranger told him. "I've tried to slot men into areas where they will excel, but this is still a small group so everyone will have at least two areas where they will have to show mastery, and everyone will have to show basic competency in all areas of the operation."

The room fell silent as both Tank and Ranger read. Ranger's curiosity about the blonde woman was satisfied, but knowing Joe Morelli was spending intimate time with an old classmate caused the formation of more questions to be answered. Did Stephanie know Terry Gilman? More importantly did Stephanie know Joe was seeing Terry Gilman? On the heels of those questions came the big one he wasn't ready to explore. Why the hell did he care who Morelli was sleeping with or if Stephanie knew. He looked across at Tank and saw he was finished reading the work Ranger had just completed.

"What do you think?" Ranger asked Tank.

"You can take the man out of the Army, but you can't take the Army out of the man," Tank responded. "You set up your own Special Forces team and you're calling it RangeMan. I think if we follow this plan things should operate very smoothly…it works for Uncle Sam, so I think it will work for us."

Ranger took the organizational charts back from Tank and once again looked over his work. Tank was right, of course. He had knowingly used a military model. He was the commanding officer, and Tank was his number two. It had been that way when they were in the service and it worked well for them. The other two men he'd served with who had become a part of RangeMan had specific roles as well.

Lester was in charge of Intelligence, which wasn't the oxymoron it seemed at all. Lester was a planner, whether he was planning his latest seduction routine or an operation to remove a South American drug lord. He always gathered the important information so they never went into an op unprepared. He would serve the same function at RangeMan. He would cross over as Tank's back up with day to day operation of RangeMan.

Bobby was reprising his role as Medical Officer. He'd been trained as a medic in the Army and he was now a certified physician's assistant. It was true there was medical help available in Trenton, but Bobby would take care of all minor injuries. It was good to be self-sufficient and his skills would go a long way in making that happen. Ranger would ask for a couple of volunteers to train in basic first aid to back-up Bobby. He ran his hand over his now healed flesh wound in his thigh and thought if Bobby had been on board the night he was shot there wouldn't have been a hospital visit or all the paperwork that went along with it. Bobby would assist Lester with logistics and planning, and fill in for Lester when Lester was needed elsewhere. These men were his core team. They'd served together and he knew without doubt anyone one of them would lay down their life for one another.

His first hire beyond this group would definitely serve a position other than decorator. Ranger knew Woody had already taken some mostly good-natured ribbing about his career choice prior to RangeMan. Woody was going to be the public liaison of the home security side of the business. He had a southern charm that clients would find appealing, and he blended well with the core team. Woody's previous experience as a designer made him a natural for the job, but like the others he had a secondary skill set. He was deadly with a firearm. Ranger had learned from his preliminary background search, Woody had the ability and training to function as a sniper. He didn't enjoy it though. He'd told Ranger directly that his time as a Ranger was something he hadn't enjoyed, so RangeMan would depend on others to handle firearms, but Woody would have their backs when necessary.

Vince and Binkie were both sharpshooters, so they were naturals to be in charge of weaponry. Ranger hoped to build a firing range in the basement, near the holding cells and gym. It would be up to Vince and Binkie to make sure everyone was qualified to use the weapons they carried.

Most of the installations would be handled by Hector, but Hector could be scary in a home setting, and it was nice to have Woody run interference. Hector was good with anything computerized, but his language skills held him back slightly from doing searches. He was willing to work where he was needed, but his gangbanger tattoos could be a deterrent to home security installations. On the other hand, they could be useful in other situations.

Cal was in charge of the monitors, and Ranger had given him the freedom to plan the monitoring schedule. Everyone, except Ranger, had scheduled monitor duty.

Rodriguez was their 'in house' computer geek. He'd washed out of Quantico, but he was good on the computer. He wouldn't cover any of the other positions, as his temperament definitely didn't lend itself to field ops. His schedule would be the most routine of any of them, working mostly weekdays with weekends off. He'd shown he was willing to put in extra hours if needed, but Ranger knew this was their weak area. Rodriquez needed an assistant.

Ranger had nine employees, and he was now funded for ten. He had to make a choice soon between two applicants. The new man was going to help Cal primarily with monitor duties, but he had to be equipped for field work as well, and it would be nice if he could work searches with Rodriguez. Ranger remembered Tank's suggestion of hiring a woman the first time he'd seen Jeanne Ellen. He knew from personal experience, Jeanne Ellen wouldn't work well as a subordinate. A woman might be good though. His mind turned briefly to Stephanie, and then turned just as quickly away. She would be good in the office, not so good in the field and he didn't want her too close to RangeMan. She was somehow connected to Morelli, and he didn't want Trenton PD scrutinizing his day to day operations. He made the decision to go with Hal. Cal had recommended him and he was the obvious choice.

There would be money soon to hire temporary staff for large scale security events, but the day to day staff was mostly in place. They all, excepting Rodriguez, had the skills to work in whatever capacity they were called to do, and they were willing.

Tank was right. It was hard to take the Army out of the man apparently, because he had just built his own Special Forces Squad…and it was called RangeMan, LLC. His phone rang, breaking his concentration. The caller ID showed it was Stephanie.

"Yo," he said.

"Yo yourself," she replied. "I think I have a line on Mo. I'm staking out a bungalow south of Yardville. I need a backup for the takedown."

He didn't hesitate, "Give me directions."

By the time the smoke cleared, Stephanie had lost another vehicle, and Moses Bedemeir was in the hospital, under guard, recovering from a gunshot wound. Tank had responded to Ranger's call and had met him at the scene with another SUV. He'd made his own way to the Trenton PD where Stephanie was alternately being questioned and celebrated. It seemed she knew every cop in town and they all enjoyed teasing her about the loss of her truck.

He gave his statement to Morelli and left the interrogation room to find Stephanie waiting for him. She seemed relieved to see he was in one piece, and he remembered her reluctance to leave him in the house when it was under attack. He'd been telling her the truth when he said, "I'll be fine. I'll give you a good start, and then I'll lose myself in the woods. I've done this before."

"I'm glad you're safe," she told him.

"I was telling the truth, Babe. I've done just that sort of thing before. I was in the woods safely when the house went up." He thought she looked deflated and he knew her well enough to know although she was keeping a brave face on, she was upset about the loss of her truck. "What are you going to do about a vehicle?" he asked.

"I was hoping you could give me a ride home," she said. "That way you could take the Explorer back to your, uh, house or office, or wherever you take things."

"Morelli not taking you home?" he asked.

"He can't. As soon as he finishes up here he has to go on a stakeout."

"Keep the Explorer, Babe. You can return it when you get a new car."

"Oh, but I couldn't," she said. "What if something happened to it?"

"What's going to happen?" Ranger asked, "You got your FTA. Vinnie is going to be happy with you, and I'm starting to wonder if you need any more training." He reached out to tug on a wild corkscrew of hair. "You might be ready to go out on your own."

"Does that mean you don't want to help me anymore?"

"I'm always here if you need me, Babe. You can count on it. Now take the Explorer and go home. I'll follow you just to make sure everything is okay, but I have some business to take care of this evening."

"Do you have a stakeout, too?" she asked.

"Something like that."

He followed her to her apartment and made sure she was securely inside and then he drove to the Relax Inn where he and Tank had seen Joe. He figured he'd have some time to wait, but he was a patient man with a lot to consider.

He wondered if Morelli was staking out Terry Gilman. He wondered if Stephanie knew Terry Gilman, because Morelli and Terry had been a couple of years ahead of her in school according to Rodriguez. And mostly, he wondered why he even gave a flying fuck.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 9

Carlos stayed longer with his family than he'd intended. The meal had been wonderful. His mother cooked infrequently, preferring to leave that duty to household staff, but on rare occasions she created something Cuban, and memorable, and tonight had been that rare occasion. The conversation had been lively and not centered on him, and his enjoyment of the evening caused him to rethink his plans for an early exit from the family gathering. He'd been going to use work as an excuse, but he'd changed his mind and relaxed in the company of his older sister and his parents. At his sister Celia's exclamation of the lateness of the hour, followed by an abrupt departure, he was left alone with his mother and father.

"I need to be going, too," Carlos told his mother as she closed the door after seeing Celia out. "I'll be out of town for a couple of days and there are things I must attend to before I leave."

"A business trip?" his father questioned. "I spoke with Holly Reynolds today and she said you'd had recent meetings with her. Is RangeMan coming along according to your schedule?"

"Business is exceeding my expectations," Carlos told his father. "I'm getting ready to rename Major Securities so all offices should be operating under the RangeMan umbrella soon."

"And this trip you're taking," his mother said. "Is it a trip to visit your other offices?"

Carlos hesitated. He didn't make a habit of lying to his parents. "I will be taking a trip to visit the other offices in a few weeks."

"Carlos." The word was softly spoken, but the worry and frustration came through clearly. His mother reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "What kind of a trip is it?"

"Claudia," Ricardo Manoso said, "Don't ask him what he cannot answer." Carlos was relieved by his father's intervention, but he also saw the worry in his father's eyes.

"I couldn't refuse this opportunity, Mother, and it's true I can't talk about specifics, but I won't be gone long. I'm very good at what I do. You don't need to worry about me. And I should be home by the weekend."

"All right," his mother said brusquely. "But I expect a call when you are back. And next time you come for dinner, bring Stephanie." Her words were gently spoken, but it wasn't a suggestion. It was a mother to child command.

"Stephanie?" his father questioned. Carlos looked surprised for a moment and then remembered the ploy he'd used to get his mother to stop her matchmaking.

"Yes, Stephanie," Claudia said. "You notice he never mentions her," she said to her husband. "I think that's significant."

"I promise I'll call when I'm back in Trenton, but I don't think I'll be bringing Stephanie to dinner, Mama.

"You're not seeing her anymore?"

"I am seeing Stephanie, but she is not my…we're not dating, she's my…friend," he said lamely.

"Your friends are always welcome here, Carlos." His mother was persistent.

"And Carlos," his mother crossed the room and joined hands with her husband. "Friends can turn into the best lovers." He made no comment, just hugged his father and bent to kiss his mother's cheek. He knew his mother had much more to say to him, both about his upcoming 'business' trip and Stephanie, but due to his hour's commute home and his father's presence his mother had let him off the hook for the time being.

As he pulled out of his parents' gated community he pushed the play button and the brooding, intense melody of Rachmaninoff's Symphony No. 2 filled the car. It suited his sudden change of mood. The music was at times dark, shifting suddenly to a more serene melody and it facilitated his concentration. Thoughts of the family dinner he'd just left fell away with the miles he traveled. The beginning of the second movement had him increasing his speed, the urgency of the music meeting his urgency to be back at Haywood.

It was true, as he'd told his parents, he would only be gone for a few days, but what he'd be doing was fraught with the possibility of complication. As long as the possibility didn't become probability he would survive and come home with the capital to substantially reduce the RangeMan debt.

It was unusual and unexpected, this edginess he was feeling. He thought it might have something to do with it being the first time RangeMan would be left in the hands of Tank. He trusted Tank and all the necessary paperwork was in place in the event he didn't return in a couple of days…or didn't return at all. Both outcomes had to be considered.

Maybe it was leaving Stephanie without back up for the first time. He couldn't depend on Morelli to check in on her, as he was working undercover and had made no attempt to contact Stephanie. Tank had continued his surveillance of Morelli and Ranger wasn't quite sure why, but he didn't question Tank's instincts. Morelli was working in cooperation with the New Jersey Bureau of Investigation on a drug case that had him spending a lot of time outside of Trenton. When Morelli was back in town he'd made no attempt to see Stephanie, but he was keeping regular one hour appointments with Terry Gilman.

The monitors in the RangeMan garage recorded Ranger's arrival. Cal was on duty and grunted in surprise when he saw Ranger exit his vehicle. He turned to Lester who was working at a desk nearby. "Santos, look at this. I've never seen Ranger dressed in anything other than black."

Lester looked over and saw Ranger making his way from the BMW to the stairwell. He was dressed in faded jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled back. "He's been to his parents," Lester said with the surety of a long friendship. "His parents know all about RangeMan, but they, his mother in particular, don't totally approve of what he does. He wouldn't disrespect them by wearing a RangeMan uniform when he went to see them."

"He looks different," Cal said. "More, I don't know, maybe more human."

"Don't let him hear you say that," Lester said. He was following Ranger's progress up the stairs on another monitor. The door to the control room opened and the subject of their conversation walked across the floor toward them.

"Everything quiet here?" Ranger asked.

"Yes, sir," Cal responded quickly. Ranger shot an oblique look at Lester who met his gaze with a small smile.

"You know I'm leaving tomorrow?" Ranger asked Santos.

"Yeah," Lester said. "Tank and I talked about it and I think we've got everything covered."

"Okay," Ranger said. "I'm headed up to seven. I've got an early morning."

Ranger went back through the stairwell door and climbed the stairs to seven. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease he had, and the closer he got to his apartment, the clearer the forming idea became. He wasn't going to waste time trying to talk himself out of it; he was just going to do it.

In the dressing room he stripped quickly, and stepped into running shorts and a black t-shirt. He pulled his hair back from his face and secured it with a leather thong. The running belt under his t-shirt contained a small mag light, a Glock 26 and a slim black case. He stood in front of the cedar lined wall at the back of his dressing room and bent low, placing steady pressure on the third board from the left, six inches above the baseboard, with the palm of his hand. A section of wall slipped inward silently. He lowered himself into the dark space, his foot finding purchase on a metal step. The first of one hundred thirteen steps, he knew from his previous trip.

He ducked his head and reached across to the metal plate on the wall. It took only a slight touch for the wall above him to slide shut and he was in total darkness. The mechanism that moved the wall segment back into place worked quietly and smoothly, and he marveled at the engineering. His first experience in the narrow stairwell had been on the day Nikolas Kouris had told him of its existence. He'd spent parts of the next several days learning the layout of his secret escape and he remembered Kouris' comment about the space being small. He was grateful he wasn't claustrophobic.

He made his way in inky blackness counting every step as he twined around the spiral staircase. When he reached the bottom he stood motionless for a moment and listened. He heard nothing, but still he waited. After a minute of silence he carefully reached out to the wall across from him. The rectangular metal plate was identical to the one at the top of the stairs, but this door was on a spring and opened only partially. A dim shaft of light outlined the edges of the door and filtered in from the alley.

Slowly, he pushed open the door and looked to make sure the alley was empty. Light filtered softly from street lamps at opposite ends of the block allowing him to see there was no movement of any kind. Satisfied he was unobserved, he pushed the door open wide enough to step through and stood in the cool night air. At one time he had considered installing security cameras across the back of the building, but hadn't because there was no exit. Tonight he was glad of his decision.

He stretched, remembering his recently pulled groin muscle, and started out at a slow pace. As he rounded the corner and ran away from the RangeMan building his pace increased until two blocks later he was in a full out run with a firm idea of his destination. Running was a normally a release, taking him to another level of consciousness, where every foot fall energized him, but on this run the tightness in his gut wouldn't fade. Still he ran through the night, his destination at the forefront of his thoughts.

A quick look at the parking lot assured him she was home and without visitors. He stopped at her door and pulled the slim black case from his running belt. Seconds later he was inside her apartment smiling in the darkness. There had been no booby trap of pots and pans to warn her of his approach and he took that as indication she wasn't dealing with any psychos at the moment. Realization of that fact tugged at the knot in his gut and he felt the first unraveling of his uneasiness.

His night vision was excellent. From the door of her bedroom he could see her wild hair spread out in a halo around her head. The bed sheet was pushed down around her waist and his gaze lingered on the pale ribbon of skin where her t-shirt had ridden up slightly. Her soft breaths were deep and rhythmic and he matched his breathing to hers, as he quietly moved across the room and sat in the armchair in the corner. He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the moment. One by one, outside distractions fell away and were replaced by an overriding peacefulness. Slowly a sense of confidence crept in and he felt energized and ready to tackle his upcoming mission. These feelings weren't unknown to him. He typically meditated to focus himself on upcoming tasks. He didn't know and he wouldn't let himself consider why he'd felt the need to be in her presence, but he knew he was prepared for what was to come.

Later, as he rounded the corner and made his way down the alley behind RangeMan, the first tinges of pink colored the eastern sky. He slowed looking from one end of the alley to the other and stopped midway. He bent low and placed pressure on a brick that looked identical to every other brick in the wall. He heard the mechanism click and he pulled the door open and entered.

An hour later he walked into the control room on five. Tank looked up from the monitor he was sitting in front of. He stood and walked toward Ranger and they did a complicated fist-bump. "No pre-mission nerves?" Tank asked Ranger.

"None," Ranger replied. "I'm ready for you to drop me off at the contact point. The sooner this begins, the sooner it ends." Tank nodded and walked over to Santos and told him he'd be off the radar for an hour.

As the black SUV pulled out of the garage, Tank turned to his friend. "Santos said you went up to seven about midnight. Were you able to sleep?"

"I'm good to go," Ranger said. "I'm rested and centered and that's a good way to step into what I'm going to be stepping into." They were silent as they made their way to the point where Tank would turn Ranger out. Tank had been in the same situation and knew not to offer any platitudes. Ranger, probably, would do fine and he, probably, would return home in a couple of days, but it wasn't to be said.

Two days after Ranger left, Stephanie Plum balanced her checkbook, and it wasn't good. She'd been bringing in skips on a regular basis, but none of them had been high bonds. The up-side was her confidence was growing and she'd been able to work much more independently than when she'd first started. The down-side was low bond FTAs went hand-in-hand with small paychecks. She stood on the sidewalk outside the bonds office mentally recalculating her bank balance. She wasn't overdrawn, but she needed a big ticket FTA and she would still probably have to eat dinner at her parents' house more than once this week.

Preoccupied as she was, she didn't even look up as someone brushed against her arm and mumbled an "excuse me." When she pushed open the bonds office door she glanced at a dazed Lula.

"Did you see him?" Lula asked. Stephanie glanced around in time to see the door close on a big black SUV. The windows were tinted so she didn't have a clear view of the driver.

"Was that Ranger?" she asked.

"No. It was a mountain with legs," Lula responded. "An' I'm thinking of taking up mountain climbing."

Connie rolled her eyes at Lula's response. "It was one of Ranger's employees," she told Stephanie. "I think Ranger is out of town on business."

"I've never met any of Ranger's men." Stephanie said, looking through the window of the bonds office and watching the SUV motor away. "Do they do bond enforcement, too?"

"Yeah," Connie said. "They work for every bail bondsperson in town. They only take our really, really bad ones and Vinnie bonds out very few of those types."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Stephanie told Connie. "I'm getting tired of all these hundred and two hundred dollar FTAs. Do you have anyone I can bring in who's worth more money and won't get me killed in the process? I don't want to take away any of RangeMan's business, but rent is due."

Connie causally pulled a sheaf of loose paper over the file that was sitting on her desk. Tank had just told her Ranger would be in tomorrow and she was saving the file for him, although it wasn't what Ranger usually went after. It was exactly what Stephanie had been asking for. The money wasn't as big as RangeMan was used to, but it would have been fine for Stephanie. She liked Stephanie and they were on their way to becoming good friends so she wasn't going to let her have Kenny Martin. She was saving the file in the hope she could convince Ranger to take it. She realized Stephanie was staring at her, waiting for an answer.

"I got nothin'," Connie lied. "I'll call you next one I get, but right now I've got nothing that hasn't been assigned."

Stephanie left, mumbling about dinner at the Plum house and Connie's shoulders slumped a little in relief. She could lie with the best of them, but she didn't like being deceitful to a friend.

"Interestin'," Lula said. Connie swung in surprise. She'd momentarily forgotten the file clerk's presence. It was only one word, but it was enough for Connie to realize Lula knew about the Kenny Martin file on her desk.

"I've got my reasons," Connie said. "And it's for Stephanie's own good."

"Hunh," Lula said as she slammed a file door shut. She made no other comment and Connie returned to her desk full of paper.

The file was still buried on Connie's desk when Ranger walked into the office the next morning. She was glad he was in early before Lula or Vinnie made their way in. She wanted to explain why she'd saved the file back, and she was happy to be able to do it without an audience.

She looked up at Ranger and appreciated the sight. He was smooth muscle covered by ordinary cargos and a t-shirt, but they didn't look ordinary on him. Could you get custom tailored t-shirts, she wondered?

"Tank says you have a file you want to talk to me about," Ranger said as he lowered himself into the chair across from her.

"Yeah, Kenny Martin," Connie said mentioning a name that meant nothing to Ranger. "I kind of hid it from Stephanie, and I know she needs the work, but I didn't want her to have this guy because of his connections."

"What connections?"

"The connection to Terry Grizolli." Connie seemed uncomfortable and Ranger's interest grew. He knew the name Grizolli, and the power it wielded in Trenton. He didn't know Terry Grizolli.

"It's not Grizolli anymore," Connie amended. "It's Terry Gilman now." Ranger was very interested at that bit of information and he listened with full attention to Connie's explanation.

"Terry Gilman and Joe Morelli were a big item in high school. Everyone thought they'd get married, but when Joe came home from the Navy and joined the Trenton PD that put a big nix on their relationship. Terry's family is old-time Trenton mob and she wouldn't make a very good girlfriend for a cop. Kenny Martin is her cousin and he's FTA. I didn't want Stephanie to get mixed up in his capture, because I didn't want her to have to deal with Terry, because, well…I just didn't," she finished in a rush.

What Connie was saying made no sense, Ranger thought. Unless Connie knew that Joe and Terry were still seeing each other, and Stephanie had no clue. Connie probably knew more than he did about the relationship between Morelli and Stephanie. Ranger decided to be straightforward. He thought Connie would respond well to that.

"So you know Morelli's still banging Gilman?" he asked.

Connie's eyebrows rose, disappearing under her fringe of heavily sprayed black bangs. "You know?" she asked Ranger.

"The information has been brought to my attention."

"I'm not sure what's going on between Joe and Steph," Connie said, "but I didn't want to give her this skip. Chances are she could bring in Kenny without ever seeing Terry, but I didn't want her to find out about Joe and Terry in the middle of taking down an FTA."

Ranger held out his hand for the folder, "I'll get him for you. You like your job here?" he asked her.

"It's okay, why?"

"I think RangeMan could use someone with your investigative skills. You seem to have information at your fingertips that generally takes us a lot of man hours to acquire."

"Family connections," Connie replied, "and the Burg grapevine. I like my job here just fine, but if you ever need Burg information, give me a call." Ranger smiled at her as he got up from the chair and walked out the door, the Kenny Martin file in his hand. Connie sat stunned from the impact of a smiling Ranger and thought 'Wow!'

As Ranger made his way back to RangeMan he pondered the capture of Kenny Martin. Stephanie Plum was smart and intuitive. Morelli was definitely keeping his relationship with Terry quiet. Maybe it was because he didn't want Stephanie to know or maybe it was because it would be career suicide to be openly dating a member of Trenton's premier crime family. Or maybe it was both. Connie had given him a tool to find the answer and a plan was already forming as he pulled into the garage on Haywood.

It took two days, but the stars aligned nicely for him. He called and left a message for Stephanie and he didn't have to wait long before his phone rang in response.

"Yo," Ranger said.

"Yo yourself."

"I need you to help me take down a skip. I need to get an FTA out of a building, and I haven't got what it takes," Ranger said.

"And just exactly what is it that you're lacking?" Stephanie asked him.

"Smooth white skin barely hidden behind a short skirt and tight sweater. Two days ago Sammy the Gimp bought the farm. He's laid out at Leoni's, and my man, Kenny Martin, is in there paying his respects."

"So why don't you just wait until he comes out?" The quickness of her answer indicated she didn't make a connection between Kenny Martin and his cousin Terry.

Ranger continued, "He's in there with his mother and his sister and his Uncle Vito. My guess is they'll leave together, and I don't want to wade through the whole Grizolli family to get at this guy."

"Actually, I had plans for tonight," she said. "They include living a little longer," she replied

"I just want you to get my man out the back door. I'll take it from there." He disconnected and replayed their conversation in his mind. Her response gave indication she did know the Grizolli family, at least by reputation. It would be an interesting night, because Stephanie Plum was going to come face to face with Terry Gilman and he'd have the answer to his questions about Stephanie and Joe Morelli. Why it was important to him to have the answer was another question. He'd worry about that later.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I use them for fun, not for profit.**

Chapter 10

Ranger woke up with Stephanie Plum on his mind. She'd been occupying his thoughts on a regular basis, and he knew something was going to have to be done about it. He didn't need or want the distraction. RangeMan was his primary focus, but Stephanie Plum was running a close second.

He lay in bed for a moment remembering his recent Babe-assisted capture of Kenny Martin. He hadn't needed any assistance, but he wanted to get Stephanie and Terry Gilman in the same place at the same time and he'd been successful. He pushed the covers off and made his way from his bed to his shower, remembering his reaction when Stephanie had approached his vehicle that night.

_He did a double-take as he saw Stephanie walking toward him in front of Leoni's Funeral Home; because he'd seen her naked and he knew what she was advertising wasn't all hers. After a slow perusal he decided it looked real enough. The dress was low-cut, tight and short, and he wondered where he was going to place the wire. He considered it so seriously he had to shift to ease the tightness of his cargos. She pulled open the door and slid in next to him._

"_Nice dress you're almost wearing," he said, "You ever think about changing professions?"_

_Her reply was immediate and sincere. "Constantly. I'm thinking about it now."_

_He hid the laugh that wanted to erupt and set about placing a wire so he could hear what was said. She was carrying defense spray and he didn't think she would be in any real danger in the funeral home, but he wanted to eavesdrop while she was inside. _

"_Remember, Babe. You just have to get him outside," Ranger told her. "I'll take care of the rest."_

_He listened as she made contact with Kenny Martin, and he knew when he heard the scratchy interference over the mic; she couldn't find her defense spray. He laughed out loud when she sprayed Kenny Martin with hairspray, but his expression sobered when another female voice came over the wire. It had to be Terry Gilman, but Stephanie gave no indication she knew Terry personally._

_When the back door to the funeral home opened and Stephanie escorted Kenny Martin out, Ranger was waiting. He cuffed Martin and started to lead him to the car when the presence of a woman in the doorway caught his eye. He recognized Terry Gilman, and from the look on her face she recognized Stephanie. It was plain Terry wasn't a fan of Stephanie Plum. _

_Stephanie, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to Terry's dislike. She was busily unwiring herself, her hand moving between her breasts and disappearing beneath the low neckline of her dress. As she pulled out the tiny mic with the adhesive tape still attached, she glanced up to see Kenny Martin and Ranger staring at her. Self-consciously, she smoothed her dress down over her hips and flushed slightly, realizing she'd probably shown both men more than she'd intended. _

_The slam of the funeral parlor's back door drew all their attention. Terry Gilman walked down the steps and stood quietly watching the scene unfold. Her arms were crossed beneath her breasts and her face was unsmiling. Stephanie looked at her and then looked away, again with no apparent recognition. Ranger had his answer. He didn't know if Stephanie wanted Morelli in her bed, but he was sure she didn't know Morelli was in Terry's bed. He gave Kenny a shove and they began to walk around the building._

"_I'll take him in," Ranger told Stephanie as she followed him and Martin as they walked toward the front of the building and their vehicles. "Stop by the bonds office tomorrow and get your share from Connie."_

"_It's your skip," Stephanie told him. "I didn't do that much."_

"_You helped and you'll get paid," he told her as he walked Martin toward his SUV._

_The next morning he dropped his body receipt on Connie's desk. "Make the check out to Stephanie," he told her, "for the entire amount. It should have been her capture."_

"_Can do," Connie said, not meeting Ranger's gaze. He knew she was grateful he was helping Stephanie and he thought she acted a little guilty over hiding the Kenny Martin file from Stephanie. He knew her intentions had been good. "How'd it go?" she asked Ranger._

"_Exactly like you didn't want it to," he told her. "Stephanie helped me get him out of Leoni's and she ran into Terry Gilman. I don't think she recognized Terry, but Terry knew who Stephanie was."_

"_Oh sheesh," Connie's eyes opened wide. "Terry didn't say anything to Stephanie, about Joe, I mean?"_

"_No." Ranger was done with conversation and he turned abruptly and left the office. His ride back to RangeMan was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. It was Stephanie._

"_Ranger, I can't take all of this," she told him._

"_It's yours, Babe."_

"_I saw the papers," she said. "The check Connie made out to me is for the whole amount and I'm not sure why, because I know I didn't earn it."_

"_It's yours, Babe," he repeated. "He should have been your skip from the beginning. Ask Connie why she gave it to me." He disconnected and threw his phone toward the dash where it bounced off and skittered to the floor. He cursed softly as it landed out of his reach. He'd set Connie up to tell Stephanie about Morelli and he didn't feel good about putting her in that situation, but Stephanie needed to know, and he wasn't the one to tell her._

Reluctantly he drew his mind back to the present and began lathering his hair and body. He started to make a mental list of things that needed to be attended to that day, but he didn't keep his focus and let his thoughts slip back to Stephanie.

_He waited daily for the call to come from Stephanie, telling him what an ass Morelli was, but the call never came. His next visit to the bonds office was met with a withering stare from Connie, but she remained mute. He didn't know if Stephanie had the full picture or not, but he was backing off. It wasn't any of his business._

_The call that did come from Steph wasn't what he'd been expecting. She needed his help and once again he'd gone to her rescue. He'd banished, albeit temporarily, her shadow, Joyce Barnhart. He still wasn't sure what had made him say it, but he'd liked the quick flush of her cheeks, and her air of disconcertment. _

_"Told her I was gonna spend the next twelve hours ruining you for all other men, and so she might as well go home."_

His thoughts were jerked back into the present with an awareness he couldn't deny. As he rinsed the last of the aromatic lather from his body he was struck with the truth. He'd made the statement in jest, but he wanted to make that statement true. He didn't want to be attracted to her. He didn't want to wake up with her on his mind. He didn't want to worry about how Morelli's infidelities would damage her, and he didn't know why the hell he was even wasting time thinking about her. He couldn't slot her into the realm of a casual fuck. He didn't know why and it angered him. With a soft curse, one of his hands closed around his cock and the other slammed hard against the marble wall of the shower.

Later, he dressed and went to five to start his day. It had been two weeks since his three day 'business trip', and his bank had alerted him of a large deposit into his account. He called Holly Reynolds to make an arrangement to see her later in the day. He wanted to reduce the dependence of RangeMan on his own personal fortune and he had the money to do it. He felt almost cheerful for the first time since he'd backed out of Steph's private life.

Holly's secretary put his call through without hesitation, and they exchanged pleasantries before he got to the point of his call.

"I was wondering if we could meet over dinner, tonight?" he asked her. "I think the time has come to rename all the Major Security offices to RangeMan and I'd like you to review our financials to see if you are in agreement."

There was hesitation on her end of the line, then, "Carlos, I can meet with you late in the day, but as for dinner, I have plans. I'm going to your father's benefit. I assumed you'd be going, too." Now the silence was on his end of the line. He rubbed his brow and slowly pulled open the top desk drawer. The envelope was there. He pulled back the flap and saw the tickets his mother had sent to him via Ella, and he saw the date.

"Carlos?" Holly asked. "Are you still there?"

"Yes," he said. "I'd forgotten. My mother sent me tickets and she does expect me there." The benefit was an annual event, to raise scholarship money for minority students. It was a cause close to both his parents' hearts and his attendance was definitely expected, and not only to attend, but to contribute. His mother had sent two tickets and marked the envelope 'Carlos and Guest'. He groaned audibly.

"Look, Carlos," Holly told him. "Send me the information you were going to talk to me about. I'll look it over today and maybe we can make time to talk tonight. There is a social hour before dinner and an auction after. I know you're anxious to get going on this."

"I am," he affirmed. "Thanks, Holly. I'll plan on seeing you tonight. I'm glad I called," he told her, amusement sounding in his voice. "I always appreciate your expertise, but the reminder you inadvertently gave me is probably the best thing you'll do for me today. I'm definitely expected to make an appearance tonight and it had completely slipped my mind."

He disconnected and sat back wondering about the 'and guest'. It was a blatant attempt on his mother's part to meet the mysterious Stephanie she thought he was involved with. That wasn't going to happen. His decision was instantaneous and his smile broke out almost as quickly. He picked up his phone and called the control desk.

When Vince answered he said, "Find Tank and send him in here, now." He logged into his account and found the information Holly would need. He sent it to her and looked up to see Tank standing in his doorway, scowling. Tank was in a bad mood, apparently, and it wasn't likely to improve after his discussion with Ranger.

It was mid-morning before he was able to leave the office and make his way to Plum Bail Bonds. There was a skip to pick up. He was an obnoxious old fart and Ranger decided to bring him in himself rather than subject his crew to the demented codger. Tank was already displeased with him and Ranger didn't want to exacerbate Tank's irritability. Norvil Thompson's bond wasn't much, but Ranger knew he could bring him in with relatively little trouble. Last time Tank had gone after him, the guy dropped his pants, grabbed his dick, aimed and scored a direct hit on an unsuspecting Tank. Ranger felt good about bringing him in and saving his team from the aggravation.

When he walked into the bonds office he knew immediately. There was just something about the loose-limbed way she was standing, the totally relaxed line of her body. She'd been fucked and fucked good. He tamped down the slow burn that threatened to infuse dark red under his jaw and purposefully let his face show a hint of false amusement. He looked Stephanie in the eyes for a moment and said, "Morelli?"

She blushed and acted irritated, but he thought she was pleased with the attention, too. He felt a sudden and overpowering need to wipe that look of satisfaction from another man off her face. Norvil Thompson was just the man to help change her expression.

"Wanna help me with an apprehension, Babe?"

Two hours later he was starting to feel a little sorry for her. He'd learned of the fire that destroyed her apartment and he'd concluded that Stephanie had no idea of Morelli's extracurricular activities. And he felt a little bad about the direct hits she'd took from Thompson's wind-milling arm. She was breaded with flour and raw egg and although she looked far from edible, she looked like she was ready to be deep fried.

Humor replaced his guilt when he discovered she was having dinner with the Morelli family that evening. In her present state he knew just what kind of impression she'd make on Joe's mother, and that made him wonder for a moment how his mother would react if he presented Stephanie in present form to her. As he pulled away from Morelli's curb he saw her standing looking bedraggled and lost and he couldn't hold back the two hundred watt smile.

"You make your own bed, Babe," he murmured as he pulled into traffic.

The sun was setting on what had, for once, been a decent day in Trenton. Tank looked across the car at his boss. Ranger was a chameleon. There was no other word or explanation for it. He knew of no other person who adapted so easily to the demanding roles his life required. They weren't multiple personalities, Tank knew, but rather they were facets of one very complex person. It was a person Tank knew well, probably better than anyone, including his family.

Tank was appropriately dressed for the event he was attending under duress. He didn't buy, for one minute, Ranger's claim the evening would be beneficial to RangeMan's business. He didn't think they were likely to pick up any clients at the upcoming soiree, but he knew Ranger had an obligation to be there and, as always, Tank was his wingman. Ranger had morphed seamlessly into Carlos, the respectful son. The difference between himself and Ranger was simple. Carlos was born to the life and he wasn't. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat feeling his tie constrict his neck. He sighed audibly. It was going to be a long night.

Tank had spent time with Ranger's family before and they always made him welcome. Tonight was no exception, but he knew Claudia Mañoso had been expecting her son to bring a woman with him, and Tank didn't know why the hell he hadn't. He was approached by Claudia and her youngest daughter Ana as soon as they had seen him enter the room. The family was here in full force and he remembered Ranger telling him this was an important cause his family supported.

"Pierre," Claudia said. "It's so nice to see you again." He winced at her use of his first name, but Claudia had informed him at their first meeting she wouldn't be calling him Tank. He figured it was a 'mother' thing.

"I'm happy to be here," he lied to her. He pulled a heavy cream envelope out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Ranger, er, Carlos told me how important this scholarship fundraiser is to your family and I'd like to make a contribution." He handed the envelope to Claudia who accepted it eagerly. She turned her head searching the crowd.

"Where is Carlos?" Claudia asked. Tank tilted his head and her eyes followed. Ranger had abandoned him almost the minute they walked through the door. He was deep in conversation with a woman at a table in the far corner and they were oblivious to everyone else. The woman looked familiar, but he was sure they'd never met.

"That boy!" Claudia exclaimed. "Discussing business. In many ways he is so like his father." She turned to her daughter, "Ana, go get your brother and Holly. If they must discuss business they can at least do it at the table I've reserved for him." Ana smiled at Tank and turned to do her mother's bidding.

Holly. Tank realized the woman was Holly Reynolds, the RangeMan accountant. They'd never met, but he knew Ranger depended upon her financial expertise. His defection from Tank's side made more sense now. He knew Ranger was in the process of renaming Major Securities. The woman walking across the floor with Ranger still held an air of familiarity. He'd seen her before or she reminded him of someone, he wasn't sure which.

Ranger introduced Tank to Holly and the three of them sat at the table Claudia had indicated. The fourth spot at the table was filled by Ana who again smiled shyly at Tank. Ana was the scholarly Mañoso. He knew she was working on a PhD in something 'arty' at a university nearby. He'd listened to Ranger's stories of family for years, much as Ranger had listened to stories of his, but he couldn't recall the details of Ana's life. He knew he had one thing in common with Ana and he used it as a conversation starter. The two of them talked animatedly through-out the meal.

After the meal the women excused themselves and made their way to the ladies' room before the program started. Tank turned to Ranger, "I just figured it out. Holly looks like Stephanie Plum. Maybe they're related.

He saw Ranger's mouth tighten for a moment before he answered. "I don't think they're related, but they do resemble. I wasn't aware you'd met Stephanie."

"I haven't" Tank said. "I've seen her coming into the bonds office as I was leaving, though. And I've seen her at Cluck In A Bucket with Lula, Vinnie's file clerk. You know who I mean?"

"I know who you mean," Ranger responded dryly. "I noticed the resemblance between Holly and Steph the last time we had a dinner meeting. Holly is somewhat older than Steph, I think."

Tank looked up to see the two women approaching their table. "That's true," he said, "but she's still one damn fine looking woman." Ranger made no comment.

Ricardo Mañoso, Ranger's father, stood and tapped a spoon on his crystal water glass. He was acting as emcee for the program.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I might have your attention. The auction will be beginning shortly, but first I want to thank our latest contributor, RangeMan Security. With the generous donation from their vice-president of operations, Pierre Boudreau, we've topped the one hundred thousand mark…a mark we plan to double at tonight's auction."

Tank looked around the table. Holly Reynolds was staring at Ricardo Mañoso with a strange intensity. Ranger was staring at him with eyes wide open and Ana was softly giggling. She reached out and touched Tank's arm. "Daddy's just given you a promotion, I think." Tank looked back at her and shared her grin. Tight collar or not, he was starting to enjoy the night.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I am overwhelmed with the response to this story. Quite a few of my reviews were anonymous, or marked as guest and I was unable to respond personally. I am sorry for this as I always try to answer questions and address issues raised by my reviewers. Please know that I read every comment…and as always, I use them for fun, not for profit.**

Chapter 11

The auction was winding down and Tank couldn't say he was sorry. He hadn't purchased anything, but he noticed his boss had won the bid for a pair of season passes to the New Jersey Symphony. Ranger'd better be able to find another date for those tickets, because boss or not, no way was he accompanying Ranger to the opera, or whatever the hell it was a symphony did.

Tank stood head and shoulders above the crowd so he'd had no trouble keeping track of Ranger's whereabouts, and he wasn't surprised to see him still in deep conversation with Holly Reynolds. He made his way through the crowded room until he was standing at Ranger's side.

He interrupted their conversation with a blunt statement. "Your sister's taking me home. I've got something she wants to see at my place." Ranger's eyes widened for a moment and then his lips twitched.

"You don't have a problem with that, do you, Rangeman?" Tank was baiting his boss trying for a little payback for the evening he'd been forced to endure.

"I have no problem with it," Ranger said, "because if you are inappropriate with her, I'll kill you." Both men turned at Holly's indrawn breath.

"I have no problem with it," Ranger repeated, "because I know she wants to adopt one of your new kitties." Both men smiled as they heard Holly's held breath release with a sigh of relief as she realized it was a joke.

Holly gave Tank a slight nod of her head before she turned to Ranger. "This may work out well. I came tonight with one of the partners and his wife. I thought we'd finish our discussion tomorrow, but if you're available to give me a ride home we can print the necessary forms and I'll get your signature tonight. I have access to all my office files on my personal computer." Ranger nodded his acquiescence and Tank left them to search for Ana, who was very excited at the prospect of a new pet.

Holly went to find her associate and Ranger made his way to his mother's side to inform her he was leaving. As usual she was in the center of a crowd. His father was more solitary and was content to stay on the sidelines letting his wife be the social butterfly. "Mother, you and Papa did a wonderful job with this benefit. Holly and I are leaving now, but I will be in touch soon."

His mother's head jerked up. "Holly?" she questioned sharply.

"Yes," Ranger told her. "We've been discussing RangeMan finances all evening and I have some papers to sign. Ana is taking Tank home with the idea of adopting one of his kittens, so it frees me up to conclude my business with Holly."

"Carlos, I…" His mother stopped speaking and gave a quick shake of her head, as if to erase the rest of her thought. "You're a man," she continued, "capable of taking care of yourself, but I still worry." He looked at her quizzically, not understanding her sudden concern. He reached out his hand and ran fingertips over her wrinkled brow.

"Mama?" he questioned, waiting for her to explain. She turned her head scanning the room until her gaze settled on his father, and with some strange ESP he'd witnessed before, his father turned to meet his mother's gaze. Claudia smiled at her husband as Ricardo Mañoso lifted a champagne glass in a silent toast to his wife. The worried frown eased as she turned back to her son. "You're very like him, Carlos. You look much now as your father did, when I met him. Forgive a mother her silly worries. I know you can take care of yourself." She reached out and grasped his hand tightly before she continued. "It was good to see Pierre, but you should have brought Stephanie."

"Mother, about Stephanie…"

"I know," she interrupted. "She's your friend. You're not dating, but you could have brought her as easily as Pierre. I want to meet her, Carlos."

Before she could continue Holly Reynolds came to join him. "I've let my ride know I'll be going with you, Carlos." She turned and briefly touched Claudia Mañoso on the arm. "You did a lovely job as usual, Claudia. I was happy to be invited."

We were happy you could come, Holly," Claudia said. "I know Ricardo feels the same. Thank you for your generous gift to the fund." She took a small step backward neatly discouraging any physical contact. Ranger noted this and filed it away as more odd behavior from his mother. She was a very tactile person in normal circumstances.

"Well, I've no children of my own," Holly replied, "so I can afford to be generous for a worthy cause." Holly looked up at Ranger. "Shall we?" she asked. "It will take a little bit to get everything in order and it's getting late."

The trip to Holly's townhouse was made in short order. He'd never given any consideration to where she lived and he was a little surprised to find she lived in close proximity to Haywood, near the City Center. He felt her eyes on him as he drove and felt little a dart of unease spread between his shoulders and work its way up his neck, but when he glanced at her she smiled benignly and he dismissed his feeling.

"Do you live alone," he asked her in what he hoped was a conversational tone.

"Yes," she said. "I've never married. My job is very demanding and when I was younger I spent all my time climbing the corporate ladder. There wasn't time for even a causal relationship with a man, let alone a husband and family. I'm not complaining though. It was a conscious choice." She turned slightly and asked, "What about you, Carlos? Do you live alone? It seems like your business interests are becoming more invasive on your private life daily."

"I am alone," he said. "My life at the moment doesn't lend itself to any kind of personal relationships." He silently cursed himself for what he'd said. He couldn't explain it, but ever since Tulia Campos had mistaken Holly for his date he'd noticed her on a different level. It seemed, by her glances and questions, she was noticing him on a more personal level as well.

They made the rest of the short trip in silence. As he stood behind her and watched her disarm her security system he felt a little shot of satisfaction. She was a RangeMan customer. She'd been one since becoming the official accountant of the firm and he appreciated her loyalty. As she turned on the hall light she held her leg in front of her and looked down at the sleek black velvet pump on her extended foot. She turned her head back over her shoulder and asked, "Do you mind if I slip into something more comfortable? You can help yourself to the bar in the living room. I won't be a minute."

She hurried up the stairs and Ranger turned silently toward the living room. A drink suddenly seemed like a good idea. He chastised himself for wondering what she meant by more comfortable. He walked to the bar and poured himself a measure of Scotch. He was half anticipating her return, and half dreading it and wondering if he was imagining things. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. His tie followed and he loosened the button at the neck of his dress shirt.

A few minutes later he turned at the sound of her entrance into the room. So much for his half-baked idea she was bent on seduction. She was wearing a loose fitting t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants. Her curly hair had been let loose of its French twist and her feet were bare, showing ten pristinely red-enameled toes. Attired casually, she bore a striking resemblance to Stephanie. She wasn't old enough to be her mother, but an older sister or a maybe a young aunt.

"You remind me of someone, Holly," he said. "Do you have relatives in Trenton?"

"Nope," she said. "I migrated. The rest of my family is nicely settled in Missouri. I go to visit them frequently. My parents are aging and no longer travel well."

Holly walked from the living room into a small office and returned shortly with her laptop. She sat on the large sofa and sunk back into down-filled cushions. She patted the space next to her and said, "Sit here and we can look at the files together. I will make the necessary changes and print everything for you to sign. Then tomorrow I'll file the paperwork and the offices in Boston, Miami and Atlanta will no longer be known as Major Securities. Soon you will be the owner of RangeMan, LLC, which will have offices in four major cities, if you consider Trenton a major city." She grinned at him and once again he was struck by the similarity to Stephanie. Holly's eyes were grey-blue rather than the bright blue of Stephanie's. Her nose was longer, and there were small signs of age in her face. Ranger estimated her to be in her early to mid-forties, but her age didn't detract from her attractiveness.

The business was taken care of quickly and without undue problem. She snapped the lid shut on her laptop and told him, "I've forwarded everything to your attorneys. You're in good shape, Carlos. If the business keeps growing at its present rate, you're going to be a wealthy, well," she amended, "an even wealthier man."

"Wealth is good," Ranger said, "but while it's imperative to make a profit, I'm doing this because I'm good at it. I would never have been satisfied taking over my father's business. I'm fortunate he is supportive of me and doesn't resent my career choice."

"You father is a special man," Holly said quietly. "His business was one of my first accounts when I joined the firm. I've known him for a long time."

She uncurled her legs and the laptop slid toward the floor. Ranger leaned forward at the same time she did to catch it. His hand curled over the top of hers as she pulled it back up to the sofa. The awareness came suddenly and strongly. He looked into her eyes and saw a reflection of his need. His hand lifted and gently traced the line of her jaw. He leaned closer; he was going to kiss her. She pulled her head back slightly and with a tremulous voice said, "Carlos, we can't. I'm old enough to be your…"

"You're old enough to be honest about what you want," he told her. "I want you Holly, and I can see it in your eyes. You want me."

She shook her head in confusion making curls bounce round her face and his cock throbbed. "No," she said softly. "I mean yes, I do want you, but no, I can't. I don't sleep with men I do business with, Carlos." She moaned as his lips found the base of her neck. "Carlos, I work for you. I can't. It's a rule."

"You're fired," he said softly and brought his lips down on her mouth. The laptop tipped precariously and slid to the floor, unnoticed.

The passion and need that flared between them was intense. As clothes flew off and landed indiscriminately on the floor and furniture Ranger noted and appreciated Holly's high, firm breasts and the narrow tapered waist that flared into curved hips. Her legs were long and muscular and he had the fleeting thought she was not built like Stephanie at all. Stephanie had more curves, and slightly larger breasts.

The first hard kiss led to another and Ranger realized this was not going to be a gentle and slow coupling. Both of them, it seemed, needed hard and fast, and he set about doing his part.

He was surprised and pleased at her eagerness and when the low keening sounds came from deep in her throat he knew she was near climax. He heard her softly whispered syllables in rhythm with his deepening thrusts and then at once they were both over the edge and spiraling down.

He pulled back and stared deeply into her eyes. He saw the knowledge there and no regret. It was not pleasing to him. Without a word he rose and pulled on his clothes and left the townhouse, with Holly still lying naked on the sofa.

He got in his car with the urge to drive, but realized he was only blocks from RangeMan. He thought about running until the sound of Holly's words were obliterated by the pulsing of his heart and the blood rushing through his veins, but he was in dress clothes and handmade Forzieri oxfords. He drove to Haywood on auto pilot and parked his car. For a moment he remained motionless remembering the softly uttered "Ri-car-do".

Ricardo was his name, but no one had ever called him anything but Carlos. Ricardo was his father, and Holly had been making love to his father. He'd seen it in her eyes, the knowledge that he knew her secret. His mother's odd behavior earlier in the evening was starting to make sense. His parents were totally devoted to one another. He wondered if his father knew of Holly's feelings, but he didn't wonder about his mother. She knew, and in her way she'd tried to warn him. He done and seen a lot in his relatively short time on earth, but the thought of someone making love with him and imagining he was his father did not set comfortably upon his shoulders.

He got out of the Porsche and stood unmoving. He breathed deeply and tried to clear his mind and tamp down the rage that was building. He felt used and that was not something he would tolerate. He had to wipe the end of the evening out of his mind, because niggling at the edges was a question he'd have to answer eventually. Holly had imagined him as his father. Had he imagined her as Stephanie? Was that where the sudden flare of passion had come from? He doubled up his fist and slammed it into the hood of the Porsche. Then he raised his hands and held his head, willing the thoughts to leave. Stephanie Plum, his Babe, his student, was driving him fucking crazy.

Lester was upstairs on five with Cal when they noticed the Porsche slide into its space. He wasn't on duty, but had just come home from a date that hadn't ended to his satisfaction. He was shooting the breeze with Cal before he made his way down to his apartment on four. Night monitor duty was dead boring and it was nice to have someone to pass a little of the time with. When Ranger didn't immediately get out of the vehicle, Lester started paying closer attention to the monitor.

It looked like he was in the car alone, and he wasn't talking on a cell. He was just sitting. And when he got out of the car he stood still before suddenly turning around and stepping close to the car. The monitor's image was sharp and both he and Cal, who was looking to see what had caught Lester's attention, saw Ranger drive his fist into the hood of the car. Lester cringed, imagining the pain traveling past Ranger's wrist and up his arm.

Lester was out of his seat and moving in an instant. He turned and called over his shoulder to Cal, "Get Tank here, ASAP!" and he ran toward the stairway door. Ranger had been his commanding officer and his friend for a long time. His control was legendary. So was his loss of control. It didn't happen often, but when it did it always resulted in injury. He knew what his boss and friend needed; he just hoped Ranger didn't kill him before reinforcement arrived.

Lester burst through the door and slowed his progress, and then stood still, staring across the garage at Ranger. There was a time for casual joking, but this wasn't it. He thought he and Ranger looked like a parody of two gunslingers getting ready to square off for the shoot-out. Lester saw the unreadable expression in Ranger's eyes and he saw the tightly coiled tension in his body. "The gym?" he asked Ranger quietly.

Ranger remained unmoving for a moment before he nodded his head slightly. "Five minutes," he replied.

Five minutes, Lester told himself, before I start getting my butt kicked. He knew he was a worthy sparring opponent for Ranger, but he wasn't sure Ranger had the control not to hurt him. Better him than someone unsuspecting, but Lord, he hoped Cal got hold of Tank.

Tank figured it took him fifteen minutes to get to RangeMan, and he'd been watching Ranger and Lester go at it for at least that long. So maybe they'd been going for a half hour in total. The way these two were attacking and defending, a half hour was a long damn time. If something didn't break soon, he'd step in. Lester was acquitting himself well, but he was tiring. It was a mystery as to what'd set Ranger off. This wasn't typical behavior for him, but he'd seen it before, after a mission gone seriously wrong. After the death of one of his squad members. Tank couldn't imagine what had caused Ranger's current state. He didn't suffer from flashbacks, although all four of them suffered from some degree of PTSD. This had to be something that happened when he took Holly home after the benefit. He wouldn't ask, because if Ranger wanted, or needed, to tell him he would.

Both men were wearing black gym shorts and were covered with sweat. Tank thought Ranger was showing signs of fatigue as well as Lester, but he obviously wasn't ready to quit. Then without warning Lester landed a roundhouse kick into Ranger's ribs. The boss man grunted and held up taped hands, palms out. "Enough," he said simply.

Lester bowed slightly and turned his back to find a towel. He heard Ranger's quiet, "Thank you."

"De nada," he murmured as he turned back toward Ranger. He held out his hand and Ranger met his with a fist bump. With a swallowed groan of discomfort, Lester Santos walked from the ring, trying to hide the limp that was causing his slow progress.

"Santos," Ranger called. Lester turned around to see a small smile playing at the corners of Ranger's mouth. His bottom lip was swollen and the tight lines of anger were gone from his face, and Lester took a measure of satisfaction knowing he'd given his boss a fat lip. "I'll take your morning shift," Ranger said. "You can sleep in."

Lester smiled back at Ranger, "You didn't beat me up that bad, boss. I can still pull my shift. You look like you're the one who needs to sleep in," and with a cocky grin Lester made his way to the stairwell door.

Tank walked across the mat and held a bottle of water and a towel out to Ranger. Ranger looked surprised. He hadn't been aware of Tank's presence. "What are you doing here?" Ranger asked as he took the towel and wiped the sweat from his face.

"I got an emergency call from Cal. He told me to get over here and save Lester's life. What the fuck happened to you?" In spite of his intention not to ask, the question popped out. Ranger said nothing.

"Look, man," Tank said. "Something's obviously wrong. You're lucky I got out of my nice warm bed and left your sister to come over here."

"I thought you said my sister was only interested in your cats."

"That's what you said," Tank replied. "I said she was interested in my cats. I never said _only_ in my cats."

"Are you telling me you slept with my baby sister?" Ranger asked.

Tank sighed. "No. I'm not telling you that. Ana took me home and came in and picked out the kitten she wanted, and then she went home. I was just trying to get a rise out of you, to see if you needed to go a second round with me. I'm trying to figure out what happened between now and when I saw you earlier this evening."

"What happened is Holly Fucking Reynolds. I'm adding a new rule to the RangeMan personnel policies. No intra-office relationships."

"Hunh," Tank said. "Won't be much of a problem for me, since you only have men in your employ."

"That includes employees, as well as clients and professional colleagues," Ranger said softly.

Tank reached out and punched Ranger on the arm. "What about little sisters? Are they included in the rule? Is Ana off limits to me."

Ranger drained the bottle of water Tank had handed him and turned to face his longtime friend. "Tank, you can screw Ana every way from Sunday as long as she's willing and you know you're screwing her, and not my mother."

Tank's mouth dropped open. "What!" Ranger tossed the bottle into the recycle container, walked through the door and started climbing the stairs. Tank stood in open-mouthed bewilderment long after the door slammed shut.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 12

It was a little larger than a shoebox, but was inordinately heavy. He'd placed it on the corner of his desk and ignored it, while he finished revising the personnel policy to his satisfaction. It was the arrival of the box that had prompted him to finally put his new policy into print. No employee sexual relationships. He hadn't worded it that bluntly, but the meaning was clear. He didn't want the operation of RangeMan to suffer from stupid decisions made by dicks instead of brains and he felt justified in making the change, as it was his own dick that had lost him the expertise of a good accountant.

Ranger was not accepting all the blame for the fiasco with Holly. He'd spent some hours thinking about what had happened. He hadn't deliberately set out to use her, but if he was honest with himself, he had used her as a substitute for Stephanie. He didn't think Holly's actions had been deliberate either, but the truth was in her eyes as she watched him dress and leave her place.

He hit the send button dispatching the e-mail with a 'read confirmation' attached and pulled the package across his desk. His employees had been notified of the changes so he turned his attention to the package. It had been delivered in person, with the request it be given to Ranger. A quick glance at the video from the lobby cam confirmed it was Holly who'd left it.

Ranger was curious, but he didn't waste time wondering. He pulled a small knife from his pocket, opened the blade and slit the tape running across the top of the box. Inside the box lay a small notecard on top of folded packing paper. Holly's hand-printed missive was centered on the small card. He ran his fingers over it and then picked it up and began to read.

_Carlos,_

_I have forwarded your financial information to your attorney as I will no longer be representing RangeMan Enterprises as its accountant. I have a recommendation for my replacement, Rogay Alvarado, who is the senior partner with the Lopez financial group. I have also recommended him to your father as I have disassociated myself with his account, citing a possible conflict of interest. I believe Mr. Alvarado is known to your family, and possibly to you personally._

_If Alvarado does not meet with your satisfaction, I suggest you ask your attorney for his suggestion. As of today, Major Securities is officially RangeMan Enterprises._

_You did not fire me. I quit._

_H._

Ranger pushed back his Aeron chair and walked to the shredder. He balanced the edge of the note on the teeth and watched as the automatic feeder pulled the paper through the machine. Rogay Alvarado? Tulia's new lap dog? Not fucking likely. He didn't trust Tulia, and he didn't trust anyone who was so obviously enamored of her. He walked back to his desk and pulled the brown packing paper from the top of the box.

There was a brass plaque about twelve by six inches engraved in a simple block letters. RANGEMAN ENTERPRISES. It was classic in its simplicity and exactly what he would have chosen. He lifted the surprisingly heavy plaque from the box and saw there was more than one. Four to be exact, one for every office of his new corporation.

He picked up his phone and punched in a number before he could rethink his decision. He wanted Holly to stay with RangeMan.

"Holly Reynolds."

"It's Carlos. Thank you for your gift. It's exactly what I'd planned."

There was a moment's silence before she responded. "You're welcome. There was no need to call. I thought I'd made myself clear in my note."

"You did," Ranger said. "But I wanted to apologize. I pushed the issue, when you were obviously unwilling. I'm sorry."

There was a very unrefined snort and then she responded. "I wasn't unwilling, but I won't let you tell people you fired me. You owe me the opportunity to quit."

"What happened between us was, perhaps, not in either of our best interests. I can assure you it won't happen again." No fucking way would he ever be used as a substitute lover for his father. "I want you in charge of the RangeMan money. You understand the priorities I have for the repayment of the loan. I don't want anyone else involved."

"It's not your decision to make, Carlos," she told him. "I think Rogay would do a good job for you, if you choose to use him."

"I choose you, Holly," Ranger said. "You've been with me from the beginning and I want you to stay. We'll formalize our meetings, keep everything business-like, and you have my word. What happened won't happen again."

"No," she said softly. "It won't."

There was more than a moment's silence on the other end of the line. He sensed her hesitation and wondered what he'd say to convince her.

She cleared her throat and spoke in a low voice. "All right, I'll stay. But I am staying firm in my resolve to drop your father's account and I know there will be questions."

"He will hear nothing from me," Ranger assured her. "We don't discuss our business interests in any detail. We respect each other's boundaries." He knew what he was saying to be true, but he also knew he would be avoiding his mother for a while. She was a smart woman who could and would put the clues together, and he wasn't going to give his mother the opportunity to ask him if he'd slept with Holly.

Ranger disconnected from Holly and looked up to see Tank standing in the doorway. He lifted his chin slightly in what was a 'come in' gesture. Tank walked through the doorway and closed the door behind him. This got Ranger's attention.

"I got the e-mail about the new personnel policy," Tank said. "You stayin' away from Holly or did you let her go?" Not many men would call Ranger on his decisions, but Tank thought it was part of his job.

"Why would I let Holly go?" Ranger asked.

"Are you going to be able to stay away from her now that you two have started something? You just implemented a new policy and it wouldn't look good if you were the first one to break it."

"What, exactly, do you think we started?" Ranger asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Damned if I know," Tank said, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement. "I'd like to though. I don't know when I've seen you so pissed off as you were the other night. What did happen between the two of you?"

"Nothing. Nothing happened and nothing is going to happen, and Holly is still the RangeMan accountant." Ranger shoved the box across his desk toward Tank. "Find Woody and have him put this sign up next to the lobby door, or wherever he thinks it should go. Then send these to the other locations. Clear our schedule for early next week and you and I will take a trip to visit all the other offices. We'll leave Lester in charge."

Tank leaned forward in his chair and looked at the unwrapped plaque sitting next to the box. He leaned back and crossed his arms. Ranger raised an eyebrow waiting for Tank to speak, or get up and leave. Tank remained motionless.

"Was there more?" he asked Tank.

"Hell yes, there's more. I haven't even started."

Ranger leaned back in his chair and rested his elbows on the arms. He steepled his fingers and gave Tank his full attention.

"Start."

"You know I've been giving Jeanne Ellen a little help."

"I know that, but I don't know why. She is very capable on her own."

"I like her, we're friends." He shot Ranger an intense look and then slowly said, "She's my mentor. She's teaching me the ins and outs of the Trenton low-life scene."

"That's bullshit," Ranger said. "You could teach her more than she could ever teach you. Is the new personnel policy going to limit your association with her?"

"Not mine," Tank said. "I'm just helping her out…no strings. The other night we were sitting together in an alley off Stark. She can take care of herself, but two is definitely better than one in that area. She was waiting on her skip to show up to make a purchase, which he did and she got him, but we got something else as well. The guy he was buying crack from was an employee of Homer Ramos."

Ranger straightened in his chair. "You're sure?"

"Jeanne Ellen is sure," Tank replied.

"That's trouble then," Ranger said. "Ramos stays out of the drug business and the Trenton drug families stay away from gun sales. If they're changing the boundaries, this town will blow up, literally. You know about my business for Vinnie?"

Tank nodded, "That's why I'm in here telling you this. And there's still more. Jeanne Ellen dropped me off early after she got her skip. Seems she had a midnight meeting…with Joe Morelli."

Ranger sighed deeply. "Business?" he questioned.

"Of some kind." Tank got up and opened the door, but made no attempt to leave. "You get Vinnie all straightened out?"

Ranger nodded and stood as well. "I've been letting him sweat a little. He doesn't know, but I guess I should go tell him he's off the hook, and get the money the slimy bastard promised me."

Connie was typing busily as Ranger walked through the door of Plum Bail Bonds. He didn't acknowledge her, but moved quickly across the room and entered Vinnie's office unannounced. She knew what he was there for and didn't blame him for not indulging in small talk. Ranger had gone out on a limb for Vinnie and she wasn't sure why, but she was glad he'd done so.

Transacting business with Vinnie was never pleasant, because Vinnie wasn't a pleasant man. He was a miscreant whose deviant behavior was the stuff Burg legends were made of. Ranger normally wasn't concerned with anything regarding Vinnie, except the paycheck that came from Plum bail bonds for FTAs delivered. Today his paycheck was high, and it was coming directly from Vinnie's personal account.

Vinnie looked up from his desk where it appeared he was immersed in actual bonds office business as Ranger entered the office.

"It's done," Ranger told him.

"So everything's good?" Vinnie asked Ranger.

"Good," Ranger said. "You won't be getting whacked by Alexander Ramos' henchmen, and the video tape no longer exists. A word of advice, next time ask to see ID when the girl says she's eighteen." Ranger took the proffered payment and left Vinnie standing behind his desk, uncertainty showing on his face.

This time he didn't ignore Connie. He stopped briefly in front of her desk and said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice. "It's taken care of. I don't think anyone's trying to kill him any longer."

Connie gave him a half smile, and said, "I'm glad. I told you before I like my job here. Vinnie needs to learn to keep his giggle-stick out of public places, so I can keep this job."

"That's good advice," Ranger told her, "and not just for Vinnie." He turned and walked toward the door with a glint of optimism. He'd made Connie blush, something that wasn't easy to do. Maybe his day was turning around. Connie was right in her appraisal of the situation. Vinnie needed to be careful. Lucille, his wife, was connected and if she got wind of Vinnie's recent events not even RangeMan Enterprises could guarantee his safety.

The scrawny little twerp was beyond idiotic. How he'd gotten himself hooked up with an underage relative of Ramos' bodyguard and then videotaped proof of his lunacy was beyond Ranger. Ranger had the ear of the Ramos family, but he didn't like to ask them for anything. Much better to have the family feel as though they owed him, rather than the other way around. Ranger had no doubt the next time he met with the Ramos' they be asking him to return their favor. He remembered Tank's unwelcome news. The possibility of a mob war in Trenton over drug and gun rights made him wish he'd declined Vinnie's request for help.

Why had he put himself in this position? Vinnie meant nothing to him, but he'd helped him just the same. Connie, and to some extent Lula, depended on the little prick for their income. He knew that was only part of the reason he'd gotten involved. Stephanie's livelihood depended on Vinnie, same as Lula and Connie, and Stephanie was still struggling to make ends meet. Several times he'd thought about offering her work, but he held back. He spent enough time being distracted by Stephanie. Having her work for him wouldn't be a good thing.

His mind on Stephanie, he looked down the sidewalk to see her leaning against his car. Sunlight was glinting off wild curls escaping from a messy ponytail. As he drew nearer she smiled.

"Yo," she said, mocking him a little.

Ranger looked at her over the top of his shades. "Yo yourself."

She gazed longingly at his car. "Nice Mercedes."

"Transportation," Ranger said. "Nothing fancy."

She hesitated a little and he thought she was uncomfortable with what she was getting ready to say. His attention focused entirely on her.

"Connie said you were talking to Vinnie."

"Transacting business, Babe. I don't talk to Vinnie."

"That's sort of what I'd like to discuss with you... business. You know how you've kind of been my mentor with this bounty hunter stuff?"

"Eliza Doolittle and Henry Higgins Do Trenton." He hid a laugh. The thought of Stephanie as his BEA in training always amused him.

"Yeah. Well, the truth is, the bounty huntering isn't going all that good."

"No one's jumping bail, Babe. You can't bring'em in if they don't run."

"I figured that out."

Ranger leaned against his car and crossed his arms over his chest. "And?"

"And I've been thinking maybe I should diversify."

"And?" Ranger knew whatever she was getting ready to ask was difficult for her. He was usually the reticent one, but today she was definitely conversationally impaired.

"And I thought you might help me," she said in a rush, clearly not comfortable with asking for his help.

He didn't understand her hesitation. She called him all the time for help with skips, so clearly she was asking for something different. He took his sunglasses off and slid them in his pocket.

"You talking about building a portfolio? Investing money?" He let his mind wander for a moment to Holly Reynolds. The image of Holly and Stephanie together was not a picture he wanted in his mind.

"No. I'm talking about making money."

Ranger tipped his head back and laughed softly. "Babe, you don't want to do that kind of diversifying. Lula will tell you that."

She narrowed her eyes. He resisted the urge to tease her further.

"Okay," he said. "What did you have in mind?"

"Something legal," she said primly.

"There's all kinds of legal, Babe."

"I want something entirely legal."

She was asking him for a job. Ranger leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Let me explain my work ethic to you. I don't do things I feel are morally wrong. But sometimes my moral code strays from the norm. Sometimes my moral code is inconsistent with the law. Much of what I do is in that gray area just beyond entirely legal."

"All right then, how about steering me toward something mostly legal and definitely morally right." Her persistence made him realize she was serious about her need for money.

"You sure about this?"

"Yes," she said, without the ring of conviction in her voice.

Ranger's face was expressionless. "I'll think about it." And he would. He wanted to help her, but he didn't want her at RangeMan. Her skill set was extremely limited in comparison to that of his men, so what he would find for her to do would be limited, at best. He didn't want to manufacture a job for her. She didn't want charity so he had to come up with something that was an acceptable option.

He slipped into his car, the engine caught, and Ranger rolled away, his mind lingering on Stephanie Plum and the work he'd find for her.

The solution to the job for Stephanie came two hours later. RangeMan was going to do a redecorating job for a local landlord. It was the type of work that fell under the 'Enterprises' part of RangeMan Enterprises. Not a textbook security job, and not totally legal, but not morally wrong either. Ranger knew it would be a good test to see how Stephanie would react. He decided to use the core team since she'd be along. They'd worked so many missions together that there was little chance anything would go wrong. He wanted as little conflict as possible if Stephanie was going to be with them.

He picked a time when he knew she wouldn't be home, and he didn't sign the note. He was going to give her what she wanted, a quick opportunity to make some easy cash, but he had something else he was hoping to accomplish. The surest way to do it was to gauge her reaction to him. He'd let himself into her apartment and left a message for her, in the form of a sticky note on her fridge. "I'm bringing dinner. See you at six."

Ranger came back at six and once again easily navigated her locks. He listened for a moment and heard her in the bedroom. He'd let her find him. The kitchen was small and functional and he washed his hands and went directly to work, preparing her dinner. Ella had made a fresh garden salad with homemade dressing and all he had to do was assemble it.

He heard her approach, but didn't turn around until she spoke. When he did turn around he saw she was punctuating her words with a stiletto-heeled pink-satin pump.

"You scared the hell out of me. Why don't you try knocking next time?"

Ranger looked with interest at the pump wondering where its mate was. "I left you a note," he said. "I thought you'd be expecting me." He continued with his salad preparations.

"You didn't sign the note. How was I supposed to know it was you?"

He turned again and looked at her. "Were there any other possibilities?"

"Morelli."

She was dressed casually in jeans and a shirt, her feet bare. He noticed her toenails matched the pink shade of the shoe and wondered if she'd go in search of the missing one and put them on. Her hair was a mass of well-orchestrated curls. He had sisters. He knew how much work it took to get that carefully tousled, just rolled out of bed look.

Stephanie, in some ways, was easy to read. He'd just gotten the answer he was after. She was still interested in Morelli. Did she know about Jeanne Ellen? Presumably Morelli's involvement with Terry Gilman was on a hiatus. Even Morelli couldn't be arrogant enough to bed two alpha women at the same time.

The hard part to reading Stephanie was trying to figure out why she still wanted Morelli, and the obvious answer was she didn't know. She didn't know about Terry, and she had no idea Morelli had someone new on the line. He realized she was staring at him waiting for his response to her answer.

"You back with him?"

She ignored him and glanced at the food. "Morelli would have brought sausage sandwiches."

"That stuff'll kill you, Babe."

She sighed. "I'm an inexperienced bounty hunter. I'm sure my life expectancy isn't all that good anyway."

Her kitchen was small, and she'd unconsciously moved farther into the room during their conversation. Ranger reached around her and snagged two salad bowls from the over-the-counter cabinet. "It's not length of life that's important," he said. "It's the quality. The goal is to have purity of mind and body."

"Do you have a pure mind and body?"

He looked at the pink pump still dangling from her fingers and let his gaze slide up. He locked eyes with her. "Not right now."

She flushed and stepped away, and he was easily able to read something else. She wanted Morelli, but she was not indifferent to him. She was attracted and she didn't know what to do with the unexpected rush of heat he'd caused.

He gave her a half-smile. Join the crowd, Babe. I don't know what the hell to do about it either.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 13

The atmosphere was relaxed considering the early hour of the morning. Every job was taken seriously and this one was no exception, but there was a looseness among the men that resulted from years of working together. In the dark, early hours of the morning, the team worked quietly loading the back of the SUV with the equipment they needed. There was no conversation partly caused by the early hour and partly because the team took their cues from their leader.

Ranger was methodically checking off a mental list. Each man had his own weapon and was responsible for it. RangeMan supplied the cleaning equipment and the Kevlar vests that were always worn, _just in case_.

Tank helped Ranger stow the vests in the back of the SUV. He raised an eyebrow when he counted five vests. "You invite someone else to the party?" he asked Ranger.

"Stephanie is coming along. She's trying to supplement her income." Tank was surprised, but smart enough not to show it. He was finally going to meet Stephanie Plum face to face.

"Were you planning on telling us we'd have an extra?" Tank asked.

"I just did." Ranger looked over his shoulder to see Lester and Bobby waiting patiently. "Let's roll."

Lester and Bobby slipped into the middle row of seats. Tank caught Lester's door before he could pull it shut. "Move your ass over," he grumbled.

"You're not riding shotgun?" Lester asked, surprise turning the phrase into a question.

"No. That slot's reserved for the fifth member of our team. I think we're picking her up on the way."

"Her?" Bobby and Lester spoke in unison.

Lester's face broke into a wide grin, "Damn, I'm finally going to meet Jeanne Ellen."

"You're going to meet Stephanie Plum," Ranger said. "She's a little inexperienced, so she may need some guidance when we get to the site. I've hired her as a temporary employee."

Nothing more was said, but three pairs of eyes were watching intently as she exited her apartment building in the pre-dawn darkness and slipped into the seat next to Ranger. She turned slightly to latch her seatbelt, and Ranger saw her eyes widen as she took in the passengers in the seat behind her. She gave a brave half-smile and turned her head back toward the front. Ranger glanced in the rearview mirror and saw three men, all with arms crossed against their chests, sitting shoulder to shoulder. The mixture of curiosity and humor had him biting his lip and he was successful, keeping his expression blank. His men were in intimidation mode, and he wondered how Stephanie would respond.

"I'm dressed different from everyone else," she whispered across the seat to Ranger.

Ranger stopped at the light on Hamilton. "I've got a jacket and a vest for you in the back."

"This isn't interior decorating, is it?"

"There's all kinds of interior decorating, Babe."

"About the vest—"

"Kevlar."

"Rats, I hate getting shot at. You know how I hate getting shot at."

"Just a precaution," Ranger said. "Probably no one will get shot."

Ranger heard a snicker from the backseat, and once again glanced in his rearview mirror. Santos. They were all finding the situation humorous, but it would be Santos that would let his humor show. The other two had more common sense. The rest of the trip was made in silence, which gave Ranger a little time to wonder if he should've been more forthright with Stephanie regarding what was going to happen. He knew she needed the money, but he wasn't quite sure yet what boundaries she would cross. Strangely enough he knew fear wouldn't be her motivating factor in turning down a job.

The word spunky connoted images of a freckle-faced, red-headed kid, but it was also a word he thought of in conjunction with Stephanie, who was not red-headed, freckle-faced, or a kid. He let his eyes make a quick survey of her silhouette in the seat across from him noticing her breasts outlined and bisected by the seat belt. No one would ever mistake her for a kid, spunk or not. She might walk into danger with a bravado she couldn't back up with skill, but she would not cross her own ethical line drawn in the sand. Ranger admired that. So he purposely kept her a little in the dark about what was going to happen next.

They arrived in the still-dark of early morning at the building on Sloane. The men gathered around the back of the SUV and began arming themselves. Stephanie took the vest Ranger handed her and put it on before she slipped into the black windbreaker with the word SECURITY printed in large white letters across the back. She stood quietly a small distance apart, while the other men inspected their firearms and holstered them. Ranger noticed she was making no effort to check her own weapon.

Ranger sauntered over to her and placed a finger under her chin lifting her gaze to meet his. "Let me take a wild guess here," he said, slinging his other arm around her shoulder. "You forgot to bring your gun."

"Interior decorators don't use guns."

"They do in this neighborhood." He placed both hands on her shoulders and swung her around to meet his men.

"Gentlemen," Ranger said, "This is Ms. Plum."

Lester stepped forward and stuck out his hand saying, "Lester Santos," in a simple introduction. The others followed and Ranger watched noting there was no hesitancy on her part, even when she stood across from Tank who was almost an entire foot taller than her.

When the introductions were finished she turned back toward their boss. "I better not get into trouble for this," she said to Ranger. "I'm going to be really bummed if I get arrested. I hate getting arrested."

Santos grinned. "Man, you don't like to get shot. You don't like to get arrested. You don't know how to have fun at all."

"I know how to have plenty of fun," Stephanie told him. "My fun comes without guns, usually."

Lester laughed and put his hand casually on her back to escort her across the street. "That's okay, Beautiful. You don't need a gun today. We'll watch out for you and I bet you'll have a lot of fun."

It took four hours, but the apartment was cleaned and the occupants had been delivered to the local meth clinic. Ranger made one last trip through the apartment before he locked up and left. Tank was on his way the nearest landfill with a truckload of garbage bags and mattresses. Before he'd left he pulled Ranger aside for a quick conversation.

"Put the little girl on the night security shift with me."

"I wasn't planning on her doing security," Ranger replied. "She needs a few more skills before I …"

"Put her with me," Tank interrupted. "You aren't the only one who can teach her what she needs to know." Ranger remembered the look in Steph's eyes when Tank had thrown the complainer out the window. He was pretty sure Tank had known there was a fire escape outside, and Ranger smiled as he recalled the speed with which Steph had made it to the window. And the relief when she'd seen the man wasn't injured. She didn't like to be in the presence of violence and skills or not, that ruled out quite a few of their ops. He twisted the key in the lock and turned to find Steph standing on the landing watching him.

Ranger angled the brim of a Navy SEALS ball cap to shade his eyes. "So," he said, "what do you think of security work? You want to be on the team? I can let you take the graveyard shift with Tank."

"He isn't going to throw any more people out windows, is he?"

"Hard to say, Babe."

"I don't know if I'm cut out for this."

Ranger took his SEALS hat off and put it on Stephanie. He let his hand slide down the side of her cheek. His finger traced a path lightly along her jawline. He heard her quickly indrawn breath. She was not unaffected. "You have to believe in what you're doing," he told her.

She released the breath she'd been holding and raised a hand to remove the finger that was making its way down the side of her neck. "I guess I could try a shift," she said. "See how it goes."

It didn't go well. Ranger was in a deep sleep when the call came. He dressed and made it to the control room in less than five minutes. His crew looked up as the stairwell door opened with enough force to ricochet it off the wall. The intensity of the slamming door did not show in Ranger's demeanor. He was calm, controlled and his voice eerily normal as his command echoed throughout a suddenly quiet room.

"Report." They were all a little shaken. It was the first time in the young company's history one of their own was down, and a contract worker, as well. Not just any contract worker, a _friend_ of the boss.

Bobby Brown set a phone back on its cradle and turned toward Ranger.

"Tank and Ms. Plum are at the ER. Tank took a good shot to the chest, but the vest held. The impact knocked him backward and he fell into a desk. He was unconscious for a time, but was coming to when the cops and paramedics arrived. Preliminarily, he's concussed, mildly. They'll let him go under my supervision. I'm on my way down."

"And Stephanie?" Ranger asked.

"They're keeping her for observation," Bobby said. "Early indication is she's okay, but she was at ground zero when the bomb went off. That's all I was able to get. I'll know more after I talk to Tank."

Ranger heard the words, but he was still processing 'bomb'. He looked at his crew. "This was a simple security watch. What the fuck happened?"

Lester took over the report. "Everything was quiet when Tank and Beauti...Ms. Plum went on duty. Vince and Binkie had a boring ten hours and then left. The guy Tank threw through the window earlier today came back and was out of control. He'd turned himself into a human bomb, and when he saw Tank in the lobby he opened fire. No one is sure how or why Ms. Plum was up at the guy's old apartment instead of the lobby, but when the guy blew himself up, she was very close."

Ranger looked across the room at Brown. "Let's go. The rest of you can return to your normal duties." He shot a look at Lester who was barefoot, wearing sweats and an old Army t-shirt. He'd obviously been off duty, and Ranger felt gratitude and reassurance that he'd picked his new team well.

"One other thing," Lester said. "Sgt. Morelli is making noise at the hospital. He's looking into the situation. He's not happy his girlfriend was placed in danger."

"Fuck Morelli!" The words rang off the wall of the control room, even more startling in their intensity because they were uttered by Bobby Brown, the quiet, reserved medic who never drew attention to himself. Even Ranger's eyes widened a little at the expletive. He tossed a set of keys toward Brown.

"Let's get going, Brown. You drive." The two men exited the control room and made their way to the garage. Ranger was not thinking about Stephanie's possible injuries, or Tank's mild concussion. He was remembering, in the middle of the morning's clean up, looking across the room and seeing Stephanie's head bent forward in concentration listening closely to Brown and Santos.

He thought maybe they'd found something of interest in their housekeeping, so he walked closer to see what was holding their attention. Stephanie was being instructed in the fine art of fist-bump. Lester had his hand around hers and was curling her fingers into a fist, preparing to tap it against the proffered fist of Bobby, who was reaching out with a big thumb to capture hers. At their awareness of his presence, Santos and Brown stepped back and left Stephanie standing with a huge grin and a fisted hand.

Later, he heard her tell Bobby the three men were like a band of merry men, and Bobby's laughter indicated he liked the comparison. No one had the balls to call him Robin Hood, at least that he'd heard.

Tank was sitting in the waiting room looking a little worse for the wear, when Ranger and Bobby entered. He stood as Ranger approached and made an effort not to sway.

"I'm sorry, man," he said to Ranger, "I think the guy recognized me and just let loose. He had an automatic. Bullets were flying everywhere."

"Nothing to apologize for. What was Steph doing on the third floor? Did you have her doing a building walk-through?"

"No," Tank said. "I'd done a walk-through and everything was calm. She was taking a nap, and…"

"A nap?" Ranger said incredulously. "You let her go to the apartment to take a nap? What kind of training is that?"

"I didn't let her go anywhere," Tank growled. "And she wasn't really taking a nap. She just laid down on the floor to stretch out. I got up because I heard someone at the door. That's all I remember, but one of the cops told me the guy was wired with explosives and he must've taken her up to the apartment to look for his stash. I guess he thought it was still there and he needed a fix. I don't know what happened next, but he blew up and she didn't. Thank God."

Thank God, Ranger silently echoed. Tank sank heavily onto the molded plastic chair, his report given. Ranger turned and walked to the counter and waited for the busy clerk to come his way.

"May I help you, sir?"

He handed her a RangeMan credit card and said, "Stephanie Plum is my employee. Her insurance isn't active yet, so this will take care of the charges. I would like to talk to someone about her condition."

"You can talk to me, I'm her boyfriend."

Ranger turned to see Joe Morelli standing directly behind him. "How is she," he asked the cop in a quiet tone.

Morelli's stance was aggressive. Ranger read him instantly and knew he was about to blow. One part of him welcomed this, but the wiser part knew he would tread carefully to avoid anything that might upset Stephanie.

"She's fine," Morelli said curtly. "No thanks to you. She's coming home with me. The doctors say she can leave in a couple of hours. She had no business being on Sloane Street in the middle of the night with a bunch of amateur thugs. You stay away from my girlfriend, Mañoso."

"RangeMan is not composed of amateurs, or thugs, and Stephanie is an employee of RangeMan by her own accord. Which girlfriend do you want me to stay away from, Terry Gilman or Jeanne Ellen, who, by the way, is technically my friend." Ranger never raised his voice.

Joe Morelli's face blanched at the names of Terry and Jeanne Ellen, but he kept his temper in tight control. He swiveled and walked quickly across the waiting room. His hands pounded the double doors and they swung wide. He walked through, presumably on his way back to Stephanie's side.

Bobby came over to Ranger and said, "Tank can go now. Did you want to see Stephanie?"

Ranger sighed, feeling a dark wave of fatigue roll over him. "No. Let's get Tank out of here. He'll have to stay at RangeMan for what's left of the night. His cats can do without him. He needs to be monitored, I assume."

"Yeah, but he can stay in my apartment. No problem." They made their way out of the ER and were standing next to the SUV when Ranger heard his name called.

"Mr. Ran…ah, Ranger."

He turned around to see a Trenton cop walking toward him. He recognized Eddie Gazarra, Stephanie's friend. He held out a large brown paper bag to Ranger. "This was with Stephanie. I didn't think, well, here, you can give it back to her." What he was doing was obviously against protocol. Ranger took the sack and looked inside to see her gun and the SEALS hat.

"Thanks," he told Gazarra. "I'll get this back to her." And again he was reminded of the instant friendship that had sprouted between Stephanie and his men. She had friends everywhere in Trenton, even among those whose professional loyalties lay with Joe Morelli. It struck him that Morelli cared for Stephanie, too. But with Morelli, Stephanie's need and wants would always fall lower on the priority list somewhere after Morelli's own needs. Could Stephanie handle involvement with someone that selfish? Probably. The more pertinent question was did she realize how truly selfish Morelli was?

It was after lunch and Ranger hadn't made it back to bed. He had a full day, but he took time out to visit Stephanie at her apartment. He knocked, but she didn't answer. Her car, the Buick, was in the lot and unless she'd gone home with Morelli she should be inside. He quickly and efficiently let himself in, and relaxed as he heard the shower running.

His first impulse upon hearing of the previous night's fiasco was to pull her off the security detail. What had happened wasn't her fault, but she wasn't properly trained. He thought of Tank and his desire to have her continue on with him. He wouldn't pull any other man off the job and he decided it was fair to let Stephanie make her own decision. The shower stopped and he stayed still listening to her movements. When he heard her leave the bathroom and enter her bedroom he walked silently in behind her.

She was clad only in a towel, her hair a mass of semi-damp ringlets cascading over her shoulders. She turned and he saw no damage from the night before. His heart rate should have calmed at that, but it began beating at an increasing pace. The towel barely covered her.

"YIKES!" she jumped back and clapped her hand to her chest, tightening the towel. "What are you doing here?" she yelled, obviously startled.

His eyes dropped to the towel and then back to her face. "Returning your hat, Babe." He put the SEALS hat on her head and adjusted it over her damp hair. "You left it in the lobby."

"Oh. Thanks."

Ranger smiled.

"What?" she asked.

"Cute," Ranger said.

She narrowed her eyes. "Anything else?"

"You doing the shift with Tank tonight?"

"You're still policing that building?"

"It's got a big hole in it, Babe. Gotta keep the bad guys out."

"I'll pass on that one."

His relief was hidden behind a carefully blank face. "No problem. I have other jobs you can try on."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

Ranger shrugged. "Things turn up." He reached behind him and came up with her gun. "This was found this in the lobby, too." He tucked the gun under the top edge of her towel, wedging it between her breasts, his knuckles brushing against her soft damp skin.

He heard the catch in her breath and smiled.

She did more eye narrowing.

"I'll be in touch," Ranger said, and he left.

He could have her, he knew it. He wanted her, and she wasn't immune to him. Not even close. He didn't know what it would do to her relationship with Morelli, and most of him didn't care. But the part of him that didn't want to see her hurt cared. She was his employee and his friend and he had responsibilities toward her. She was his employee. Damn that freaking personnel policy addendum!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I'm having a little problem with my email notifications and my ability to PM. I have tried to respond to each review, and if you didn't get a response I am truly sorry. All the reviews were read and appreciated. In fact I have been overwhelmed by the feedback this story has received. Thank you everyone!**

Chapter 14

Stephanie was standing outside the bond's office staring at the Buick when he saw her. He was fluent in Italian and he couldn't hold back his laugh when he heard her talking to the car.

"Porca vacca! I hate you."

"You always talk to your car like that? Think you need a life, Babe."

"I've got a life. What I need is a new car."

"What would you be willing to do for a new car?"

"What did you have in mind?"

His laugh was soft and his gaze assessing. He took in the soft frizz of the hair escaping from her ponytail, the swell of her breasts under the stretchy t-shirt and the curve of faded denim that snugged her ass. "Would it still have to be morally correct?"

"What kind of car are we talking about?"

"Powerful. Sexy."

A light rain had started to fall. Ranger stepped closer, pulled her jacket hood up and tucked unruly tendrils of hair in. His finger traced a line at her temple, their eyes met, and he leaned in thinking of kissing her. The blare of a horn reminded him he was on the street, near the bonds office. Not the right place and not the right time. He pulled back.

"Let me know when you decide," he said.

It was nearing nine the next evening when Ranger made his way across the control room floor and into his office. He wanted time alone to think, because suddenly he was a busy man being pulled in a number of directions. It was what he had hoped for when he started RangeMan, but he thought it would work better if the problems came one at a time, instead of falling from all directions to land at his feet. He looked up to see Tank standing in the doorway.

"Got a minute?" Tank asked and came into the office without waiting for a response. He sat and stretched out in the Eames chair that was raising Woody's estimation in his eyes.

"We've got things set in place to repo the green Jag tomorrow, early evening. The timing will be tight so I was thinking we could use that little girl of yours to distract Perin in the bar."

"She's not a little girl and she's not mine, but she'd work well." He picked up the phone and made the call to Stephanie. He put the call on speaker and then had second thoughts, as Tank seemed very interested in the conversation, but to take it off speaker might really cause Tank's interest to escalate.

She answered on the first ring, and he jumped into the conversation.

"I have a job for you tomorrow," Ranger said. "Are you interested?"

"Maybe."

"It's of high moral quality."

"And the legal quality?"

"Could be worse. I need a decoy. I have a deadbeat who needs to be separated from his Jaguar."

"Are you stealing it or repossessing it?"

"Repossessing. All you have to do is sit in a bar and talk to this guy while we load his car onto a flatbed."

"That sounds okay."

"I'll pick you up at six. Wear something that'll hold his attention."

He disconnected and turned his attention back to Tank. "Have you eaten?"

"No. I just got the repo deal lined up for tomorrow. I'm on my way home."

"Come up to seven. Ella always makes enough for two. I don't know what's waiting, but it'll be good."

Tank nodded and they got up and made their way to the stairwell door. Tank turned suddenly and said, "Did I see a Boxster in the garage earlier?"

"Yeah, it was delivered today."

"How many cars do you need?"

"This one isn't for me," Ranger said as they ascended the stairs. "I got it for Stephanie."

Tank came to a dead stop and then a grin split his face. "So that's the way it is," he said, once again climbing the stairs.

"That's the way what is?" Ranger asked coldly. "I know what you're implying, but I loaned her the car, with no strings. I'm moving my abuelo's BMW down to my parents' house. I don't drive it on a regular basis any longer, so I'm replacing it with a newer model, and I decided to get the Boxster at the same time."

"I want to talk to you about Stephanie," Ranger continued. "She's got some bad people hanging around her. I ran into one today and he was carrying, and not easily intimidated. He looks like a street person, but I could smell cop. I'm betting he's a Fed. He's following her every move and that tells me she's into something she may not even know about. I should have put trackers on that car."

"Easy enough to do," Tank said. "We've got a unit that just snaps on the undercarriage. I'll do it tonight, unless she and that file clerk are out cruising the town."

"She's home, that's where I called her, so the car should be in the lot. I'd go, but I'm expecting a call I can't miss." Tank nodded his head slightly, knowing at once what Ranger was talking about. There was only one kind of call that came at this time of night Ranger would sit and wait for.

They stopped their conversation as they entered the apartment. Ranger was right. Ella had more than enough food for two and it was delicious. They washed the chicken mole and warm tortillas down with iced bottles of Carte Blanca and their conversation morphed into mundane details about the running of RangeMan. After dinner Tank continued their pre-dinner conversation as if there was no break.

"Timing isn't real good for you to be gone any length of time," Tank said.

"I've reached the same conclusion, but in this instance I have no control." Ranger changed the subject abruptly. "Get Woody to put the tracker on. He needs to get out of the building and do some field work. Your day is officially over."

"Nah," Tank said. "I'll do it. I'm gonna be out later anyway. I got a date right around midnight."

Ranger couldn't stop the smirk. "Jeanne Ellen?"

"Your sister." Tank was up and out of the apartment before Ranger could summon up the temper to curse.

Ranger was still awake when Tank called two hours later.

"Tracker is installed and working correctly, but I almost got caught. I didn't know if she knew about the surveillance, so I didn't make myself known. She came tearin' out of her building, hopped in the Boxster, and drove outta there like she was a woman with a mission…so I followed her. And there's good news. You don't have to worry about telling her the cop is stepping out. She knows."

"Which woman?" Ranger asked.

"Terry Gilman," Tank replied.

"Did she confront the SOB?"

"No, she turned the car around and went straight to the 7-Eleven. She came out with a big bag of candy and went back to her place. I figured it was okay to leave her since she's not living alone."

"What?" Ranger asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"She's got some midget guy living with her. He can't be more than three feet tall."

Ranger reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger. Stephanie Plum had secrets of her own it seemed. It was intriguing and irritating, and not unlike his own life he realized.

"And there's something else," Tank continued. "She was dressed, well, funny. She had a nightgown and sweatpants on and boots."

"Thanks for the report," Ranger said. His hand lowered from the bridge of his nose and a small smile played at the edges of his mouth. Stephanie in a nightgown, sweatpants and boots, and carrying a bag of chocolate. She was down, but not out for the count. She'd be okay.

"That stuff will kill ya, Babe," he murmured as he made his way to his bed.

The Repo job was one Ranger had stepped back and let his staff take the lead on. He'd be there to make sure the car was towed without incident, and he'd be there, because he wasn't quite ready to turn his men loose with Stephanie yet.

She was waiting for him and stepped into the parking lot as he pulled the Mercedes in front of the door. Hard to believe this was the same woman Tank had described to him last night. There was no obvious sign of hurt over Joe Morelli. Her eyes appeared to be wide-open and not swollen from a night and day of crying. Ranger started at the bottom and worked his way up as she walked toward the car. High heels made her legs look impossibly long for a woman of average height. Her skirt was short, tight and was cinched at the waist with a thick leopard-skin belt. The white shirt tucked neatly into the skirt was unbuttoned to show maximum cleavage. And the hair. Her hair bounced off her shoulders as she walked. It was once again tousled in that careful way as to appear completely natural.

He didn't think she'd talk about Morelli, but he didn't give her the chance. She needed to be working from a point of calm control, and he didn't want to risk getting her upset. Ranger looked at her and smiled. "I told you to get his attention . . . not start a riot. Maybe you should button one more button."

"You don't like it?"

She was flirting with him. Maybe Morelli had dented her heart, but not broken it. Ranger reached over and flipped the next two buttons open, exposing her to mid-belly. "That's the way I like it," he said, the smile still in place.

He looked up to see one of Stephanie's neighbors, a bent old man, staring at them from a few feet away.

"I think I just sullied your reputation," Ranger said, putting the car in gear. He used the time as they drove to brief Stephanie on the operation. He showed her a picture of Perin and explained how it would go down. He would have preferred to have someone in the bar with her, but they weren't staffed for that. He had an emergency button for her to use if things went wrong, but the entire operation was straightforward and he didn't anticipate trouble.

He should have been used to it, but it still came as a surprise when fifteen minutes after she entered the bar the sound of a gunshot rang out. The car was in the process of being towed when he walked with forced casualness into Mike's Place. Things were chaotic, and in the middle of the chaos stood Stephanie Plum, swaying slightly, looking at him myopically. She was more than tipsy, he realized. He walked to her side, took her arm and leaned in close to her ear. Wild tendrils of hair tickled his nose as he said, "You never disappoint," and then he quickly walked her from the bar and into the waiting Mercedes.

She flirted with him all the way back to her apartment. Ranger was waging a war within himself that didn't show at all on his face. He thought he'd be welcomed into her apartment when they arrived, midget or not. And then what? He couldn't, wouldn't, take advantage of her possible emotional upheaval over Joe. He wouldn't be a rebound guy. He'd had enough of women calling out other names when they were with him. If Stephanie did it, he'd have to kill Morelli. On top of everything, she was feeling no pain. She'd only been in the bar fifteen minutes.

Ranger glanced over at her. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better."

He shot another appraising look across the car. The carefully tousled curls had given way to something less controlled, but equally appealing.

"Well, maybe I'm a little buzzed," she said. "Think I shouldn't have drunk that whole drink." She leaned closer to Ranger, "You're looking very fine, much superior to that rat-fink, Morelli."

Ranger grinned. "How many drinks did you have?"

"One. But it was a big one. And I'm not much of a drinker."

"Something to remember," Ranger said.

They made the rest of the trip in silence. Ranger knew he wouldn't stay after he'd walked her up to her apartment. She was untouchable on two counts. She had unfinished business with Morelli, and she was under the influence. Even if he hadn't made the decision, it would have been made for him. In the corner of the lot, next to the Boxster, sat Joe Morelli's Ducati.

"You have a visitor, Babe." She followed his eyes and saw the bike.

"Morelli." She sounded resigned. She slumped forward in the seat for a moment before straightening up and attacking her purse, rummaging through the contents wildly.

"Looking for your keys?" he asked.

"My gun," she replied. "But I think it's in the cookie jar." He stayed in place until she was through the door and out of sight. He didn't want to know what was going to happen next, but whatever it was Morelli had it coming.

Stephanie had been out of touch for almost twenty-four hours. The tracker Tank installed was working fine and he was having her movements monitored by his team. It seemed a little extreme, considering he had no hold over her, but he'd never known trouble to find a woman like it found Stephanie Plum.

Ranger looked through the doorway toward the sound of raised voices coming from the bank of monitors. He'd just checked his e-mail and was pleased to see the communication from Holly Reynolds. Financially, from her perspective, the deal was a go. He was meeting with his attorney to sign the final papers. He checked his watch and pushed his chair back from the desk. As he walked into the control room he saw a group of men crowding around the end monitor. Vince looked up and saw Ranger and headed straight for him.

"Boss, Ms. Plum's tracker just disappeared. She'd been parked at RGC for the last hour, and then it just disappeared. Do you think she found it and removed it?"

"Not likely," Ranger said.

Tank came up from the other end of the bank of monitors. "Police band reports an explosion at RGC. No injuries, but two vehicles destroyed."

Ranger pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to Tank. "Call him and push our meeting back thirty minutes. I have to make a detour by RGC."

Stephanie was standing forlornly, looking at a crane lifting a garbage truck off, presumably, what was left of the Boxster. He smiled and saw the tension melt as her shoulders dropped in relaxation.

"That's the Porsche," she said. "It exploded and caught fire and then the garbage truck fell over on it."

"I especially like the part about the garbage truck."

"I was afraid you might be mad."

"Cars are easy to come by, Babe. People are harder to replace. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I was lucky. I was just waiting to see what you wanted to do with the Porsche."

"Not much anybody's going to do with that dead soldier," Ranger said. "Think

we'll walk away from this one."

He put his arm around her waist and led her back to the Mercedes. "I have an appointment with my attorney at Rossini's. It won't take long. Come with me and I'll buy you supper afterwards."

"I…" the growling of her stomach interrupted her. She smiled and nodded and they made the short trip to the restaurant.

"Is this bounty hunter business?" she asked as they walked through the door to Rossini's.

"No, it's real estate. I'm buying a new office building to house RangeMan in Boston." He saw Stephanie's eyes widen and he realized he was letting her see aspects of his life she wasn't aware of. So she and Lula hadn't delved into all his secrets yet. Nice to know.

They found Ranger's attorney in the bar and Ranger introduced him to Stephanie.

"Stephanie Plum," the lawyer said. "You look familiar." He snapped his fingers. "I've got it. You were married to Dickie Orr. He was briefly with our firm."

"Everything Dickie did was brief," she said, seeming relieved when he turned his attention to Ranger. Their business was accomplished in a short time and the attorney left.

They found a table in the main dining room and placed their orders. Ranger slouched back in his chair feeling relaxed, knowing the Boston building was on its way to becoming home to the fastest growing division of RangeMan outside of Trenton.

He looked at Stephanie trying to discern any emotional trauma from the night before. She looked surprisingly calm considering the car she'd been driving all day had just been bombed.

"You never say much about your marriage," he said abruptly.

"Not much to say," she replied. "I found him with Joyce Barnhardt on my dining room table and I threw him and everything he owned onto the street."

"Did you run over him with your dad's Buick?" He hid the smile that wanted to escape.

Stephanie looked up in surprise and didn't bother to hide her own grin. "No. I was less obvious with Dickie." At Ranger's raised eyebrow she continued. "I got Teresa Roblez who works at the Mercer County Health Department to give me a piece of their letterhead. Then I sent a letter to Joyce Barnhardt telling her Dickie had tested positive for an STD, and named her as one of his recent partners. The letter told her to call all of her recent partners and warn them they might be infected. It caused a small Burg uproar."

"How'd it go with Morelli last night? I didn't read about any hit and runs in the paper this morning."

Stephanie looked across the table at him, her guileless blue eyes wide and clear. "He said it was work. Terry's uncle is involved in a case Morelli is working on and Terry is helping him. Then he asked me to marry him."

Now it was time for Ranger's eyes to widen as he looked deeply into hers. "Do you believe him?" he asked her.

She shrugged and kept her eyes on the white tablecloth. "He got paged and had to go in. I don't know for sure what's going on, but I'm not engaged. I can only imagine what kind of work she'd be doing with Morelli." She looked up to see the waiter set their appetizer down and conversation stalled for a moment while she drizzled olive oil over the crusty bread.

She looked up at Ranger, "What about you? Have you ever been married?" His eyes never left her face as he picked up a slice of the warm bread and tore off a piece. Did he want to share with this woman what he'd shared with only Tank and his family?

"A long time ago. I have a daughter who lives with her mother in Florida. She's nine." He could see she was surprised, but she didn't waste the opportunity to discover more.

"Do you ever see her?" Steph asked him.

"When I'm in the area," he replied. He could see the look in her eyes. She was having trouble reconciling this new information to what she thought she already knew of him.

He decided that was enough personal information for the night, hell, maybe for the year. He changed the subject to less personal topics, and the evening passed uneventfully. When he took her home there was no sign of Morelli and no invitation to come up with her. He walked her to the door and saw her inside safely, and then he went home to Haywood, with thoughts of Stephanie and Joe Morelli on his mind.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 15

Ranger gave up on sleep at five and slid from the bed to shower and start the day. He had spent the greater part of the night calling himself all kinds of idiot. RangeMan, his life and the people he associated with were not secrets, but he didn't talk about himself, ever. And last night he had acted like a fucking love-sick teenager. He wanted Stephanie Plum with a need that was only going to be satiated by having her. He wondered if Morelli had the balls to show up at Stephanie's the night before. And if he did, did she let him in? She wasn't stupid and the knowledge of Joe's infidelity was hidden somewhere behind those innocent blue eyes. He was sure of it.

He took a quick shower, dressed and went down to the control room. Woody was working the overnight shift and the day shift wasn't in yet. Ranger walked across the control room to stand beside him.

"Anything I need to know?" Ranger asked. "I'm going to be offline for most of the morning and Tank will be as well."

"All's calm," Woody said in his soft drawl. "But here's a read-out on the new tracker we're following." He handed Ranger a piece of paper.

Last night as they'd left Rossini's he slipped a small inconspicuous tracker into Stephanie's purse. At the rate she was destroying cars, he thought she needed one on her person. He hadn't expected any activity. Now he was holding a GPS activity read-out in his hand and he was surprised to see she'd gone to Morelli's. He checked the times and realized she hadn't stayed long. She must have driven the Buick. He'd been joking last night when he said he hadn't seen any hit and runs in the paper, and he didn't think she was angry enough to do Morelli harm, but it was a curiosity just the same.

He called Tank and got a groggy response. Tank had the day off, but Ranger needed to change that. "Can you pick me up at Stephanie's apartment in about an hour?" he asked Tank. "Drive your own vehicle. This is private non-RangeMan business."

Ranger went to the garage and got in the new BMW. He didn't know what to think about Stephanie going to Morelli's. When he got to her place he would reassess. If Morelli was there, then the reason she went was clear. If not, he'd assume she was spying on him. He thought for a moment about everything he'd learned last evening regarding the people that were after Stephanie and then he cursed softly. He had his own large problem and he was going to be unable to help her. He hoped she and Morelli would make some kind of peace, because unfaithful bastard or not, Morelli would bust his ass to keep Stephanie out of danger.

Stephanie didn't seem too fazed about the fact Benito Ramirez was stalking her, or about the fact someone else was trying to blow up her car while she was in it. He tried to find his zone before he left to deliver her new set of wheels. He put the last evening in perspective. He'd have her, on his own terms, but it couldn't be now. He'd have her and he'd assuage the unrelenting itch of want. He didn't want to hurt her, but her dealings with Morelli showed him she was tough, she could handle a night with him and a night was all he'd allow himself.

He pulled into her parking lot and relaxed when he saw no Ducati. He was curious about the midget, but didn't have the time to spare. He called her cell.

"I'm in your parking lot," Ranger said. "Do you want to come down, or do you want me to come up?"

"Why are you calling? You always just break in."

"I didn't want to take a chance on scaring the hell out of you and getting shot."

"Good thinking. What's the occasion?"

"Wheels, Babe."

He saw a hand pull her curtain aside, and she looked down at Ranger.

"I'll be right down," she said. "Give me a minute to get dressed."

She walked out of her building wearing ratty sneakers, with the tails of a flannel nightshirt hanging to her knees beneath an oversized gray sweatshirt. He knew immediately she hadn't spent the night with Morelli, and he suddenly felt the urge to tease her. He found her morning persona intriguing.

"Looking a little scary, Babe," Ranger said.

"A friend of mine suggested this look could be a new concept in birth control." Ranger smiled. She felt the itch, too, and this was her way of putting distance between them.

"It's not that scary." His eyes held hers, unwavering.

She blushed and looked away as she smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her sweatshirt and closely examined a speck of lint on her sleeve. When she looked up, Ranger was still smiling.

"The ball's in your court," Ranger said. "Let me know when you're ready."

"For the car?"

He smiled wider, and they both turned at the sound of glass-pack dual exhausts. Tank was sitting behind the wheel of a red Chevy pick-up truck. Ranger held up his hand in a casual wave to Tank and then turned back to Stephanie.

"This car is equipped with sensors and a tracking system," he said as he tossed the keys to Stephanie. "If you see a red light blinking on the fob, step away and call 911, or me. Gotta go, Babe."

He reached out and tugged on one wayward curl, and turned back toward Tank's truck. He opened the door and pulled himself up into the cab. Tank was out of the lot before Ranger buckled up.

"In a hurry?" Ranger asked him.

"I don't know. Are we?" Tank shot a sideways glance at Ranger. "I figure it's something important for you to haul me out of bed early on my day off. Where are we headed?"

"North on I-95," Ranger responded. "Does this truck have GPS?"

"Of course," Tank replied.

"Turn it off," Ranger said. "And disable anything else that would put us on someone's grid.

"That would be my anti-theft," Tank said. He pushed a button on the dash and made his way to the highway. Tank knew his way around Trenton better than a native, and he was still a relative newcomer. The ability to completely master the geography of a new area in a short time was one of his strengths. No questions would come from Tank. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew he'd find out in time.

Ranger gave him further directions as they drove north out of Trenton along I-95. They left the interstate and went west into an area of modest single family homes. At Ranger's direction Tank pulled the big red pickup into the driveway of a house that looked very much like all the others on the block.

"Could you find this place again," Ranger asked Tank.

"Yes," Tank answered, still wondering what Ranger was getting at.

"Come on," Ranger said as he exited the truck. Tank followed him up the steps and stood to the side of the small porch as Ranger unlocked the door.

"Is this a new safe house?" Tank asked.

"In a way," Ranger responded. "It's where I'm going to go to ground when all hell breaks loose." He motioned to an armchair and Tank walked across the small room and sat down. Ranger pulled a chair away from the dining room table and turned it around before sitting down, his legs straddling the back.

"What kinda hell are you expecting?" Tank asked.

"This house belongs to a friend of my parents. The owner rented it to me without a contract and on a cash basis. I paid him well enough he won't make any noise about his new tenant, and there won't be any RangeMan connection. I'm being cautious, but if things go wrong I may need a place to lie low for a while, and if I do, this is where I'll come."

Tank was starting to understand, but he kept quiet and let Ranger explain.

"I got a call the other day making me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"You can always refuse," Tank said. "I told them I was done, and they were cool with that. You could tell them, too."

"This is an unusual op, and I might be the only one who can pull it off. That makes it hard to say no, and the money is good. The downside is I'll be working for Homeland Security, in Trenton. The government has been watching Alexander Ramos for some time and they know his suppliers and his purchasers."

"They want you to stop him," Tank stated.

"No, they want him to continue his business. His sons are trying to retire the old man on the basis he's ill, but Alexander is still sharp and he knows what's going on. Homer is trying to break into the drug action in Trenton and along the east coast, and Homeland Security wants him stopped. They're setting Alexander Ramos up for a big sting, and they think his sons will screw it up if they get into the drug trade. They're right. And then there is the complication of Alexander trying to wrest back control of his own organization from his sons."

"What's your role in this?" Tank asked.

"I'm supposed to gain the trust of the family and then get the brothers back on track with arms dealing. I'll be doing this while I'm trying to build RangeMan. If they get the Ramos family out of the drug business and focused on arms dealing, my part is over. It will pay well and it could mean some government sub-contracts for RangeMan, Atlanta. It would be the boost that would send us over the top."

Tank got up from the armchair and walked the short distance into the kitchen. He opened cupboard doors to find the shelves stocked with canned goods and other nonperishables. He turned and moved from the kitchen to the first door off the short hallway. It was a bedroom, simply furnished. The closet door was partially open and he walked across to look inside. It was filled with an assortment of men's clothing and shoes. Nothing black, but presumably it was Ranger's. He made his way farther down the hallway and tried the next door. It was locked.

"Guns, communication and surveillance equipment, cash, alternate ID," Ranger's voice came from close behind him. "It's a poorly planned op and the possibility of things going wrong looms large. I have to be careful, because if this op blows up the Feds will disavow any knowledge of me or the op. Worst case scenario, I could lose RangeMan and my personal freedom, or my life. If things go well, I'll just continue on with the day to day operation of RangeMan until the task is accomplished."

"You think things are going to go that bad?" Tank asked.

"I've learned from experience to be prepared," Ranger said giving Tank a slight smile. "I'm dealing with the Ramos family and the government. I hope not to use any of this, but..."

"You're dealing with the Ramos' who right now are trying to screw one another, and with Homeland Security," Tank said, interrupting him. "I see the need for this place, so if you disappear this is where I'll find you."

Ranger gave a brief nod. "But if you come to find me, you can't bring anything that would identify you as a RangeMan employee. I owe it to my men to keep the company safe, even if I'm not. There can be no RangeMan involvement."

"When is all this going down?" Tank asked.

"I have no idea, so I'm just being prepared. I know the guy following Stephanie around claiming to be a bookie is Treasury. He's ostensibly watching her, but he's got one eye on the Ramos' as well. And I have it on good authority ATF's got the family compound in Deal staked out. I think there is more than one chief on this op and I wish I wasn't involved, but it's too late for that now. And not only that, I owe the Ramos family, thanks to the stunt Vinnie pulled. I'm walking on both sides of the fence with no clear cut target or start date, but if it goes wrong, I'll know when it ends."

"No shit," Tank said. He looked at his watch. It was early, but by the time they were back in Trenton they could have an early lunch. He hadn't taken time for breakfast and he was ready to eat. He saw the lines of tension around Ranger's mouth and thought he could help ease some of Ranger's carefully hidden anxiety. "C'mon," he told Ranger. "Lock this place up and let's go get an early lunch. My treat."

Tank had known his friend for a long time, and he knew the tension wasn't just from the upcoming op. He thought much of it came from something he didn't quite comprehend, or maybe someone. Stephanie Plum was important to Ranger on some level, and that made her important to Tank as well. He'd discuss that with Ranger later. Right now he was going to do the best he could. Short of bringing his Mama up from Louisiana to make Cajun Jumbo, Shorty's was the best he could do.

Thirty minutes later they pulled into the mostly empty parking lot of Shorty's. Shorty's Pizzeria was fast becoming a popular hang-out for the RangeMan staff. The pizza was cheesy and even given Ranger's eating habits, the lure was irresistible. It was Trenton comfort food.

They sat on the scarred wooden benches and drank the ice-cold beer from frosted long-neck bottles while they waited for their pizza. When it was delivered to the table they ate in silence, savoring the greasy, cheesy delight. Tank watched as the lines of tension slowly faded and Ranger seemed to relax a little. The waitress removed the plates and brought them each another beer.

Tank turned and leaned over the back of the bench, his long arm easily reaching the abandoned newspaper on the table behind him. He offered the sports section to Ranger, who shook his head, so Tank set it on the table and began reading the front page.

Ranger was first alerted by the sound of the mild tremors of the newspaper. Then the hint of low bass humming, which was followed by an outright guffaw. The sound was so discordant in the sparsely populated restaurant the waitress and early lunchers turned to look. Tank folded the paper and handed it to Ranger, continuing to shake with unrepressed laughter.

Ranger took the paper and frowned as he saw the headline.

_RGC AND RANGEMAN ENTERPRISES LOSE VEHICLES IN SUSPECTED BOMBING_

_A garbage truck owned by RGC burned after falling on top of a Porsche Boxster registered to RangeMan Enterprises. Exact details of the accident are being kept confidential pending investigation, according to Trenton Police Detective, Joe Morelli. Preliminary investigations suggest the Porsche was blown up by a bomb which ignited a near-by garbage truck causing it to fall on the Porsche. The occupants of both vehicles were able to escape without injury. The driver of the Porsche is a bond enforcement agent working for Plum Bail Bonds. Stephanie Plum, aka The Bombshell Bounty Hunter, was recently a person of interest in the arson fire that destroyed Stiva's Funeral Home. She was not indicted._

Ranger put the paper down and looked at Tank, whose laughter had subsided into an occasional incongruous baritone giggle. Tank thought he saw a lightness in his friend which was belied by his words.

"Fuck me," Ranger said as he got up and made his way out of the building, leaving Tank with the tab.

Tank dropped Ranger off at the office and was allowed his freedom to enjoy what was left of his day off. Ranger went straight to his office and dove into the paperwork, which was a never ending part of his job. The afternoon passed quickly and he looked out at the control room in surprise to see a new shift had seamlessly taken the place of the earlier one.

He was about to call it a day when Hal stuck his head into the office. "Uhmm, Ranger, there is something kind of interesting going on with that BMW." He had Ranger's full attention so he motioned for Ranger to follow him. They made their way to the monitor Hal had been sitting in front of.

"See," Hal showed him the grid. "The BMW is traveling west on I-276. It's almost to Norristown." What the hell was Stephanie up to? He hadn't restricted her movements with the car, but it seemed like an odd time to take a road trip.

His musings were interrupted by Hal's next comment. "The interesting part is Bomber's tracker shows her to be in Chambersburg."

"Bomber?" Ranger said, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhh, I, uhh, it's a nickname," Hal stammered.

"Yeah," Lester said walking across the floor. "It's the shortened version of Bombshell Bounty Hunter. I prefer Beautiful, myself. Much classier."

"You all prefer Ms. Plum," Ranger said tersely, "unless she allows you to call her Stephanie."

"Well, uhh, Ms. Plum is still in Trenton," Hal said, bringing them back to the problem at hand. "And her car is travelling west."

Ranger pulled out his phone to call Stephanie and saw with dismay it was on silent. He had two new voice mails. One from Stephanie and one from a local number he didn't recognize. He listened to the first message asking him to call her. He dialed the number and it went straight to voice mail, so he listened to the second message. It was Stephanie again. This time she apologized because her phone had gone dead. She said she needed to talk with him and asked him to be at her apartment in a half hour. He checked the time on the voice mail and saw that it had been received minutes before.

"I'll take care of it," he told Hal. "Keep monitoring the BMW, and wait for my instructions. I'm thinking we will be reporting it stolen." He walked quickly to his office and shut down his computer. As he started down the steps he met Bobby on his way up.

"Ranger, is Bomber okay?" Bobby asked. "I read the follow up article in the evening paper. Still no leads on the bomb."

"Stephanie is fine," Ranger told him. Shit, even Bobby was calling her by a nickname. At least Bobby had met her. As far as he knew Hal had never had the pleasure. He was surprised with the ease his men had accepted her, and he felt something that was almost like jealousy at the concern his men showed for her. He put his thoughts aside as he got into the Mercedes and made his way to Stephanie's apartment to receive the news he'd already figured out.

When he pulled into her lot, he could see the lights were out in her apartment. He looked at his watch. It had only been twenty-five minutes since the voice mail was left so he leaned against the side of the car and waited, his arms folded across his chest and his thoughts going to the mess with the Ramos'.

A car pulled into the lot and Stephanie got out and started walking toward him. She looked nervous and maybe a little frightened, and that was something he wasn't used to seeing in her face. Her eyes were like beacons drawing his gaze. Her face was pale and she looked like the last thing on earth she wanted to do was to talk to him. He didn't realize his own stern expression was causing part of her fear, but he knew he wanted to ease the situation for her.

"Where's the BMW?" Ranger asked.

She pulled the plates and the piece of dashboard out of her bag and gave them to him. "I sort of had a problem . . ."

His eyebrows raised, and a smile started to twitch at the corners of his mouth. "This is what's left of the car?"

She nodded her head and said softly, "It got stolen."

The smile widened. "And they left you the plates and registration tag. Nice touch."

"Life sucks," she said to Ranger. A tear popped out of her eye and slid down her cheek.

Ranger studied her for a moment, turned, and dropped the plates in his backseat. "It was a car, Babe. It wasn't important."

"It's not just the car. It's everything." Another tear squeezed out. "I have all these problems."

He'd moved very close. He could feel the heat from her body and he had an unusual urge to comfort her, to wipe away her problems. But he knew what he was going to do would only create more problems. Still he moved closer.

"Here's something else to worry about." He bent forward kissed her. His lips met hers and it seemed to him as though they matched perfectly. For a moment he kept the pressure light, enjoying the way her mouth fit his so exactly. And then desire so strong it was painful made him deepen the kiss. He felt her mouth part under his and his tongue filled her. He tasted her and ran his tongue over the edges of her teeth and drew back as she thrust her tongue into his mouth, beginning her own exploration.

His hands clasped her head gently pressuring her to stay with the kiss as their tongues dueled. The sharp sting of desire in his groin was becoming an unbearable force demanding release and he let his hands slip down her back to cup her ass and pull her tight against him. Her hands came round the back of his neck and urged his face closer to hers, deepening and hardening the kiss. She pressed her abdomen against him and he could feel the length of his cock rub against her stomach. And he knew he needed to pull back, or he'd erupt like an adolescent in some cramped vinyl back seat. He felt her liquid and pliant against him and with more strength than he knew he had, he broke the kiss.

She looked up at him, her lips swollen, her eyes heavy with desire. "Oh boy," she said, gasping to catch her breath.

"Yeah," he said. "Think about it." His own breathing was ragged.

"What I think . . . is that it's a bad idea."

"Of course it's a bad idea," Ranger said. "If it was a good idea I'd have been in your bed a long time ago." He turned and walked back toward the car. He watched until she was safely inside and the lights in her apartment were on.

He drove with a purpose back to RangeMan and squealed to a halt, his bumper a fraction of an inch from the wall of the garage. He got out on a run and made his way as quickly as possible to his office. He turned on his computer and brought up the personnel policy document. He went to the latest addendum and right-clicked to highlight the text. He left-clicked on the cut icon and hit the save button. He made his way to the seventh floor where he spent a sleepless night.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit

Chapter 16

Ranger was a patient man, but four, going on five months was testing him sorely. He'd faithfully kept his part of the bargain and had arranged meetings with the Ramos family on several occasions. There was trouble within the family because Alexander wasn't ready to give up control, but both sons wanted it. He had influence with the old man, who was staunchly against any kind of expansion that would take the focus off his primary business. Alexander Ramos sold arms, and he wanted no part of the drug trade his sons were trying to get involved in.

On a professional level, business was booming. RangeMan revenues had grown to the point he'd hired more staff and had a roster of temps he could call in when necessary. He still did skip tracing occasionally for Les Sebring if the bond was high, and he and his men had a steady contract with Vinnie.

On a personal level he was stalled. Stephanie had run straight to Morelli after the kiss they'd shared. He knew her response to him had scared her and on one level he didn't blame her, because it had knocked him sideways as well. Judging from their reactions to having their tongues in one another's mouths, actual intercourse might be a near death experience. And he was still determined to find out.

Tank had made it his personal mission to watch Joe Morelli. Morelli had straightened up his act. No more meetings with Terry Gilman or Jeanne Ellen. He was being faithful to Stephanie. They weren't living together, but they were together at least three nights a week and Ranger thought it would be even more often if Morelli had his way.

He'd seen Stephanie only a few times, coming or going from the bonds office, except for the night she'd called him for backup. By the time he'd gotten there she'd had the skip cuffed and was dragging him to her car. All he'd done was throw the guy's skinny ass into the back seat and she'd carted him off to the PD. He wasn't her mentor any longer. She was adequate, and sometimes good at her job. They were friends, and while that friendship was important he wasn't going to let it sway him from his objective. He would have her. It was still there, the palpable awareness between them, but he made no move to act on it. He wouldn't until Homeland Security and their poorly run op was off the radar.

He had a court date in two days for carrying concealed. It was a trumped up charge to get him into Trenton PD headquarters, so he could be briefed by a young, inexperienced field officer who thought it would be a clever way to meet without blowing either of their covers. It was this type of sloppy field work that made him glad he still had the safe house.

He'd been more than able to post his own bond, or he could have used RangeMan resources, but instead he'd gone to Vinnie. Getting arrested had put him on the radar of a certain Trenton police detective, absolutely the thing he'd been trying to avoid. He knew there were all sorts of speculations regarding his association with the Ramos family, and he would have no backup if his cover was blown.

Morelli was smart and he knew there was an ongoing Federal investigation of the Ramos family. Ranger had done a good job keeping his involvement a secret, and now a poorly thought out maneuver by an inexperienced operative had put his anonymity in jeopardy. The one bright light in the whole fucked up mess was Alexander Ramos had finally called his marker in. Last night he met with Homer Ramos at Alexander's request. Alexander had finally convinced his son to quit his foray into the drug trafficking normally handled by the Grizolli family. Ranger acted as a courier to transport money for a deal that would signal Homer's retirement as a budding drug lord. Now maybe the Feds would act and he could get back to business as usual.

It was four a.m. when the phone rang. He'd been in bed only an hour and he wasn't at his sharpest when he answered, "What?"

Tank's message roused him immediately. "Trouble. I'm on my way up to brief you."

Ranger was standing at the door to his apartment when Tank stepped off the elevator. One look at Tank and Ranger knew the situation was serious. He didn't waste time wondering, he just ushered Tank in and closed the door behind him.

"Report," he said wearily, trying to quash a growing fear that Tank might have news of a Stephanie disaster. That worry was dispelled with Tank's first words.

"The building where you met with Homer Ramos just burned to the ground and Homer was still inside the building. No positive ID yet, but it's a given. The police have already pulled the video. Did you know you were picked up on security cameras?"

"It was unavoidable," Ranger said, his mind reeling with the implications. Homeland Security would deny any involvement with Ranger, and the Trenton PD would be looking for him, probably by daylight. He was half angry and half relieved that the situation had finally exploded. It would be over soon, one way or another, and he could get back to living without the sword of Damocles hanging over his head.

"I'm prepared," he told Tank. "You're in charge. You know where to find me."

Tank nodded and turned and walked out of the apartment without a word. Ranger forgot about sleep and dressed quickly. He took a moment to make sure his apartment showed no sign of hasty departure. His keys were in the tray on the table in the foyer, and the few other personal effects he left behind were neatly stored in his dresser drawer. He made his exit from the apartment using the stairway shown to him by Alexander's brother and paused for a moment to appreciate the irony.

Two days passed with Ranger covertly gathering information. He changed his appearance, so if someone was looking for the CEO of RangeMan Enterprises they would look right beyond him. He had two voicemails from Stephanie and she sounded worried. He needed help and he decided to ask her. She never told him no, so it never crossed his mind she might this time. The problem was he had to decide how much information to give her. He didn't want her getting in over her head because he would not compromise her safety, no matter how much he needed the information personally.

He had a good idea what had happened. The police were calling him a person of interest and they wanted to speak with him, urgently. He'd been set up. He was sure of it, but he wasn't sure which Ramos was behind his current problem. He didn't think it was Alexander, which seemed to leave Hannibal as the prime suspect. But there was another option that had to be considered. He was the prime suspect in the murder of Homer Ramos, but he wasn't convinced Homer was dead.

He found himself in front of Stephanie's apartment early in the morning. He hoped to get in and out without anyone else seeing him, but as he started up the stairs he heard someone coming down. Luckily, Mrs. Bestler was not manning her post at the elevator, so he stepped inside and pushed the up button, narrowly avoiding being seen by the person coming down the stairs. He was leaning against the back of the elevator, arms folded across his chest when the door slid open on the second floor. He started to step out as Stephanie started to step in and they both froze for a moment. Ranger was the first to recover.

"Get in," he said, unable to prevent the corners of his mouth from turning up, when she just stood there staring. He reached out and grabbed hold of the front of her nightshirt and pulled her into the elevator. He hit the close button and the hold button, and was grateful the elevator was not equipped with an alarm. He saw her staring at him and thought his disguise must be effective. He'd cut his hair short and was wearing jeans and a casual shirt with a brown leather jacket to cover what needed to be covered. Not one iota of black could be found on his person, excepting of course the gun at the back of his waist, nestled under his jacket, and the sheath holding the knife at his ankle.

"Jeez, you look different," she told him.

"Just your average guy, Babe. We need to talk." He took a moment to look closely at her.

"Just get out of bed?" he asked.

"You mean the nightshirt?"

"The nightshirt, the hair . . . the stupor."

"You're the reason for the stupor."

"Yeah," Ranger said. "I get that a lot. I cause stupor in women."

"What happened?"

"I had a meeting with Homer Ramos, and someone killed him when I left."

"The fire?"

"Not me."

"Do you know who killed Ramos?"

Ranger stared at her for a moment. "I have some ideas."

"The police think you did it. They have you on video."

"The police _hope_ I did it. Hard to believe they'd actually _think_ I did it. I don't have a reputation for being stupid."

"No, but you do have a reputation for . . . um, killing people."

Ranger grinned down at her. "Street talk." He looked at the keys in her hand. "Going somewhere?"

"Grandma's moved in with me for a couple days. She wanted a paper, so I was going to run out to the 7-Eleven."

Ranger released the hold button and pushed the button for the third floor. When the door opened, he stepped out and picked up a paper.

"That's Mr. Kline's paper," she told him.

"Then you owe Mr. Kline a favor," he said. "And I'm hoping you'll do me a favor."

"Whatever you need," she said.

"Be careful what you agree to, Babe," Ranger said. She blushed. He pushed the second floor button and the elevator started its short descent.

Ranger handed her a card with an address on it. "I want you to do some part-time surveillance for me. Hannibal Ramos. He's the firstborn son and the second in command of the Ramos Empire. He lists California as his residence, but he's spending more and more time here in Jersey."

"Is he here now?"

"He's been here for three weeks. Has a condo in a complex off Route 29."

"You don't think he killed his brother, do you?"

"He's not at the top of my list," Ranger said. When the door opened he looked quickly up and down the hall. When he saw it was empty he stepped out and pulled her with him. They stood in front of her door for a moment, not speaking. His eyes searched her face, not knowing what he was looking for, but taking pleasure in his appraisal. He reached out and smoothed the wild curls back from her face, before he turned and stepped back into the elevator.

"Don't get too close to Ramos," he said. "He's not a nice guy." The doors closed. And he was gone.

Ranger returned to his safe house to see a familiar red pick-up parked down the block. He unlocked the door and saw the alarm had been disarmed, so he wasn't surprised when he walked into the living room to find Tank waiting for him. He was surprised though, to find Lester and Bobby making themselves at home.

"You follow orders well," he told Tank. "I can see you've kept my secret per my request."

"I have," Tank said. "You said no RangeMan involvement under any circumstances. Do you see anyone here in RangeMan uniform?" Ranger looked from man to man and then walked across the room to the only empty chair left. Lester and Bobby were wearing jeans, t-shirts, and athletic shoes. Tank had a Giants jersey on, with sweatpants and Nike soccer sandals. The big man was sprawled on the sofa, and Ranger eyes opened wide as he saw a grey cat curled in Tank's lap. Ranger raised an eyebrow consideringly. No, he didn't see any RangeMan personnel. There were no cats at RangeMan.

"You need our help," Bobby said. "We don't know exactly what's going on, but we know you didn't kill Homer Ramos. You missed your court date and the obvious reason is you need to stay out of sight. You can't very well prove your innocence by staying in this house. We can be your legs and your eyes."

"You need to tell us what's going on," Lester said. "We asked Tank to bring us to you, because we knew he'd know of your location. What's going on, Ranger? Let us help you."

"How do you know I didn't kill Ramos?" Ranger asked.

"Because you're a professional," Tank said. "I obtained a copy of the security video from the building. You knew the camera was there. I saw you look straight at it. If you wanted Homer Ramos dead, he'd be dead. And you would be perfectly alibied. How the hell did you get out of your apartment without any of us knowing? Don't answer that. The fact that you could do it proves you would never let yourself be caught on video on the way in or out of a murder scene. Who set you up?"

"I don't know. And you're right, I do need help. Stephanie is doing some surveillance on Hannibal Ramos for me, but there are a lot of other people who need to be watched. If this goes bad, there can be no RangeMan involvement. So as much as I want your help, I have to say no. I can't place your jobs and my company in jeopardy."

"Too late, boss," Lester said. "Bobby, Tank and me were due some personal leave. We left Woody in charge."

"We're not all taking personal leave," Tank said. "But we want to help and we'll do it off-duty, with no indication of our association with RangeMan. Now get us up to speed. Give us our assignments. Let's kick some Ramos ass."

The meeting was not unlike many he'd had before with his core team. He withheld from them his suspicion Homer Ramos was alive, but he told them he didn't think Alexander Ramos had set him up. He thought he could prove Homer was still alive, but it would blow his cover with Alexander. He had to maintain ties with the senior Ramos so he could finish his op and be out from under the thumb of Homeland Security. It was up to his team to find the evidence he needed and leak it to the police. Once he had the Trenton PD off his back his movements wouldn't be limited any longer.

His team left and Ranger felt strangely unsettled. He needed to go for a run, work out in the gym at RangeMan, or just do something to dispel the tension. He walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge and he saw a supply of cat food on the counter. "What the fuck?" he asked out loud.

Then he saw the paper covered with Tank's distinctive scrawl:

_His name is Shadow and I've found him a new home, but it won't be ready for a few days. Litter box is set up in the laundry room._

Ranger felt a slight pressure and looked down to see the sleek grey cat winding itself around his leg. He reached down and scooped the cat up, his bottle of water forgotten. He walked from the kitchen back into the main room of the small house and sat in the comfortable armchair. The cat circled and settled in his lap. Tank was crazy. What was he going to do with a cat? He'd call Tank and demand that he return and take the cat with him.

He thought of his men coming to his aid and he felt unusually sentimental. He thought of Stephanie and her instant affirmation she would help him. She looked like hell that morning, but he had found a comfort in seeing her, wild hair, sleep shirt and all. Low rumbly purrs of satisfaction had him looking at the cat on his lap. He'd been unaware he was softly scratching the cat between its ears and despite his irritation with Tank, he smiled. He would get this mess cleaned up and he would figure out a way to lure Stephanie away from Morelli, at least long enough to get her in bed, and he thought she'd purr much like the cat.

His phone rang and he looked to see it was Stephanie calling.

"Yo."

"Yo, yourself," she replied in her typical response to his greeting. "Just exactly what is it you want me to do?" she asked. "I'm in front of his house, but there's nothing to see, and I can't hang out here much longer. There's no place to hide."

"Go back tonight when it's dark. See if he gets visitors."

"What does he do all day?"

"Different things," Ranger said. "There's a family compound in Deal. When Alexander is in residence, business is conducted at the shore. Before the fire, Hannibal spent most of his time in the building downtown. He had an office on the fourth floor."

"What kind of car does he drive?"

"Dark green Jag."

"Is he married?"

"When he's in Santa Barbara."

"Anything else to tell me?"

"Yeah," Ranger said. "Be careful." He disconnected and felt a lightening of his mood. He'd stop by Stephanie's tonight, when he was able to move more freely and find out what she was able to discover after dark.

He set his coffee on the floor next to her door and silently let himself in. He stepped inside and relocked her door, knowing it would irritate her that he got in without her knowledge. He turned and was startled to see her asleep on the sofa, and then he remembered. Her granny was living with her.

He sat in the chair across from the sofa and watched her sleep. The moon was full and the ambient light gave him a clear view of her face. He knew the moment she sensed his presence.

"How'd it go tonight?" he said. "Learn anything worthwhile?"

"Ranger? What time is it?"

"Three."

"Has it occurred to you that some people sleep at this time of night?"

"It smells like a pine forest in here," Ranger said.

"It's me. I was in the pine tree behind Hannibal's house, and I can't get the sap off. It's all stuck in my hair."

He laughed softly.

She sat up and peered across the room toward him. "Hannibal has a lady friend. She drove up at ten o'clock in a black BMW. She was with Hannibal for about ten minutes, gave him a letter, and left."

"What's she look like?"

"Short blond hair. Slim. Nicely dressed."

"Did you get the license plate?"

"Yeah. I wrote it down. Didn't get a chance to check it out yet."

He sipped his coffee. "Anything else?"

"He sort of saw me."

"Sort of?"

"I fell out of the tree into his backyard."

The smile disappeared. "And?"

"And I told him I was looking for my cat, but I'm not sure he bought it. Then the second time he caught me in the tree, he pulled a gun, so I jumped down and ran away."

"Quick thinking."

"Hey," she said, tapping her finger to her head, "no grass growing here."

Ranger was smiling again.

"I thought you didn't drink coffee," she said to Ranger. "What about your body being a temple?"

He sipped at the coffee. "It's my disguise. It goes with the haircut."

"Will you let your hair grow back?"

"Probably."

"And then will you stop drinking coffee?"

"You ask a lot of questions," Ranger said.

"Just trying to figure this out."

He set his coffee down carefully on the table next to the chair and stared at her. "Some things are better left a mystery." He leaned down and kissed her, his lips fitting smoothly over hers. It was a chaste kiss and he meant it to be friendly, but his body had other ideas. His arousal was immediate and unexpected. He ended the kiss and stood abruptly wondering if the light in the room was clear enough for her to see his obvious hard-on. Her eyes were focused firmly on his, as if she was seeking answers of her own, but he had none to give. He moved toward the door.

"Hey, wait a minute," she said. "Am I supposed to keep watching Hannibal?"

"Can you watch him without getting shot?"

She gave him a pissy look in the dark.

"I see that," he said.

"Morelli wants to talk to you."

"I'll call him tomorrow, maybe."

The trip back to his safe house was made uneventfully and he entered the small house to see the cat sitting in his armchair staring at him. Ranger realized he'd forgotten to call Tank. From the moment she'd called earlier in the afternoon, he'd forgotten everything, but her. He was screwed, in every way but the way he wanted to be.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: They're not mine, but I wish they were. I use them for fun and not for profit.

Chapter 17

He called Morelli. Morelli was a good cop and if he wanted to talk, Ranger knew there was information to be traded.

"Morelli," came a terse voice over the phone.

"I hear you want to talk to me." He'd spoken to Morelli on only a handful of occasions, but he didn't identify himself.

Morelli recognized his voice and spoke without hesitation. "I wanted to let you know they're getting ready to issue a warrant for your arrest as a person of interest. I'm not primary on your case and I know you didn't kill Homer Ramos. I'm just giving you a heads up."

"Why are you giving me information, and how do you know I didn't kill Homer Ramos?"

Morelli's words echoed Tank's of the day before. "You're a professional. If you wanted Homer dead, he'd be dead. I know you have more information about what's going on than the police do, but I'm not asking for it. My interest is connected, but on the other end of the deal. I know the Feds are after Arturo Stolle. He is a person of interest in something unconnected to the Ramos murder, something I'm working on. I'm hoping, eventually, you might be able to pass information to me through Stephanie."

"What I can tell you is limited," Ranger said. "And as for passing information through Stephanie, what she knows is even more limited. I'm using her to watch Hannibal Ramos because I can't get close to his place. You and I both know Stolle's role in this mess, and I'm trying to keep Stephanie far away from Stolle and out of danger.

"She hasn't told you?" Morelli said. "Steph is already on Stolle's radar. He's got men following her around, and this is Stephanie were talking about. She doesn't have to look for danger, it finds her."

"Fuck," Ranger said softly.

"I couldn't have said it better," Morelli said. "I also wanted to let you know Trenton PD is concentrating the search for you around the RangeMan office building, and I'd stay away from Hannibal's place. I know there's no police presence around the Deal house, partly because it's out of our jurisdiction, and mainly because the lead on the case doesn't think there's a connection between Alexander Ramos and Arturo Stolle. They're interested in the action between Hannibal and Stolle. Unofficially, the department is glad Homer's dead, but they're still after you as a person of interest in Homer's murder. _My_ interest is all at the other end, and I'll ask again. Any information you come across on Stolle would be helpful to us."

"I'll get you what I can," Ranger said. "But I won't pass information through Stephanie. The less she knows the better, and the safer she'll be."

Ranger disconnected and spent a few moments thinking about Morelli. He was a good cop with a potentially fatal flaw. He couldn't keep his zipper shut. Tank assured him Morelli been faithful to Stephanie the last few months, but Stephanie knew about Joe's earlier infidelities. The question of why she was still with Joe was a mystery, and sitting in a house in the middle of generic suburbia gave Ranger plenty of time to ponder the mystery.

Maybe she and Joe didn't have a committed relationship in the beginning, so technically Joe hadn't been cheating on her. Ranger knew from things Stephanie had told him, the relationship between her and Morelli was a long and complicated one, and that seemed the most logical answer to the mystery. Stephanie was with Joe was because he was known to her, and the known was always preferable to the unknown.

Ranger didn't want to consider she was using Morelli as a buffer against him, but it was possible. Hell, she called him the man of mystery. Most of him was definitely unknown to her, and he planned to keep it that way. Stephanie Plum had impacted him from their first meeting, but there was no place to slot her in his life. She wasn't into casual sex, and that's all he could afford to be into. And yet, he would be in her bed. He was sure of it.

He hadn't been having regular sex since he'd dropped Tulia, and the recent encounters he'd had were less than satisfying. Was that because he wanted Stephanie with such an ache that no one else would do? The simple answer was yes, and it scared the hell out of him.

He'd had enough of thinking about her. He picked up his phone and called her.

"Yo." He knew it amused her to answer with his typical greeting, so he played along and responded the way she normally did.

"Yo, yourself."

"I have some news," she said. "The car that came to visit Hannibal last night belongs to Terry Gilman. I should have recognized her when she got out of the car, but I only saw her from the back, and I wasn't expecting her at Hannibal's."

"Probably carrying condolences from Vito," he said, wondering where she did expect to see Terry Gilman.

"I didn't realize Vito and Ramos were friends."

"Vito and Alexander co-exist. They're not friends. If the Ramos family was successful in their drug venture, the Grizollis would be on the losing end of the narcotics trade in Trenton. Now that Homer is out of the picture they will have to re-establish some boundaries."

"Another thing," she said. "This morning I followed Hannibal to the house in Deal. I saw the other brother, Ulysses, and when he got out of the car his father smacked him on the head. Isn't that odd behavior for a father who just lost one son? He should be hugging his remaining sons, not smacking one of them upside the head."

"How do you know it was Ulysses?" Ranger asked.

"Just a guess. He looked like Hannibal, but slimmer."

There was a moment of silence while Ranger mentally catalogued the information.

"Do you want me to keep watching the townhouse?" she asked.

"Do a spot check once in a while. I want to know if anyone's living there."

Ranger disconnected and called Tank. "I thought you were watching the house at Deal."

"I'm watching it right now," Tank said. "Unfortunately, I'm watching from a good distance, because your girlfriend is parked across the street. In a big blue Buick, no less."

"Shit," Ranger said, "she was supposed to be discreet, and she's not my girlfriend."

"Well, you'd better claim her before Lester does. He's in love, and I think he's prepared to kick Morelli's ass to get to her."

Ranger disregarded Tank's baiting. He wasn't in the mood for a verbal sparring session, and the more he said the more Tank would say back. "Speaking of Morelli," Ranger said, "I had a conversation with him this morning. He wants any information we gather on Arturo Stolle, in return for information he shared with me concerning a warrant being issued for my arrest."

"Hell," Tank said. "They have to know you didn't kill Homer."

"If they don't, they'll know soon enough. Morelli's smart and I sense he knows, or at least suspects, of my government connections." Ranger changed the subject "What did you see this morning?"

"I saw Stephanie. I couldn't get close enough to see anything else."

"Stephanie saw something significant," Ranger said. He described the scene Stephanie had described to him. "I thought you said Ulysses was still in Brazil."

"He is, dammit! I'd trust our Intel out of Brazil with my life. You know our connection down there."

"I do," Ranger said, "and in fact, we have both trusted our lives to him."

"Manuel is never wrong," Tank said, "but he has to be this time. She's sure it's Ulysses?"

"Who else would it be?" Ranger asked. "She described him as slightly built, and a younger version of Hannibal."

"It's got to be Ulysses," Tank said.

"I don't think so," Ranger replied. "I think Stephanie has found our missing link, and I'll take a photo to her for positive ID. I think it was Homer. I've thought he was alive from the beginning, because I think the SOB set me up and faked his own death."

Tank didn't exclaim his surprise. He remained quiet, thinking. His long association with Ranger told him Ranger was probably right. He didn't make statements like the one he'd just made casually. So instead of saying, "No way," Tank thought about what he'd heard. It was entirely plausible.

"So Homer faked his death," he said to Ranger, "and framed you. That way you're out of the picture and you can't influence his father to move out of the drug operation. It also gets Hannibal off his back for the screwed up deal he made with Arturo Stolle. It's a pretty good plan."

"Yes, except Homer got sloppy and let himself be seen by Stephanie. Now the problem is how do we let the authorities find out without implicating me or RangeMan? If my cover is blown the Ramos' will come after me, and I don't need the aggravation." There was silence on the phone, each man thinking the same thing. They'd have to use Stephanie as a conduit to the Trenton PD.

"I'll show her a picture tonight," Ranger said, and he disconnected with no further explanation.

He entered her apartment with an easy familiarity. He was getting used to these late night visits. As he closed the door softly behind him he was momentarily startled when a big shaggy dog bounded up to him. The dog was playful, and he gave it a perfunctory pat before looking into the living room. She was asleep on the sofa, her body curled in a way that looked as if she'd be stiff in the morning. He sat in the armchair and watched her sleep. Suddenly, she sat up and squinted, trying to see her watch face in the dim light. She finally realized she wasn't alone.

"Ranger?" she asked hesitantly.

"What's with the dog?"

"I'm baby-sitting. Guess he's not much of a watchdog."

"He would have opened the door if he could have found the key."

"I know it's not that hard to pick a lock, but how do you get past the security chain?"

"Magic…and nimble fingers." Ranger handed her a large envelope. "Check out these pictures and tell me who you recognize."

She sat up and turned on the table lamp. Ranger noted she was still dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. He didn't know how she spent her days, except for the parts that involved him, but he wondered how much longer her granny was staying with her, because sleeping on the sofa was not ideal. And apparently, three was a crowd, so there was no room for Morelli, which could be ideal. He watched her study the photograph and she pointed to a man standing between Alexander Ramos and a blonde woman.

"That's the son I saw today, Ulysses. Who's the woman next to him?"

"Homer's latest girlfriend. Her name's Cynthia Lotte. She works downtown. Receptionist for someone you know."

"Omigod! Now I recognize her. She works for my ex-husband."

"Yeah," Ranger said. "Small world. The man she is standing next to isn't Ulysses. We have good Intel and Ulysses is still in Brazil."

She told Ranger about her evening trip to the townhouse, that it was dark with no sign of life, but that she'd heard the toilet flushing.

"What does that mean?" she asked Ranger.

"It means someone's in the house."

"That's what I thought. I thought it was Ulysses, but maybe it's Hannibal."

"Hannibal's in Deal."

He saw it in her eyes the moment she realized. Stephanie was smart and intuitive, and she'd jumped to a possible and probable conclusion. She would start to consider the possibility that Homer Ramos was alive. She'd help him get proof and she'd take it to Morelli and then the entire mess would be over. Alexander Ramos and his sons would be arrested by Homeland Security and he would remain anonymous in his dealings with the government agency. No words were spoken, but he felt a tremendous rush of gratitude toward her. She would let him direct her toward the proof Homer was still alive. He was going to use her, and she would let him. No price.

He reached over to turn off the lamp. Tonight's work was done and he could hear her grandmother's rhythmic snores from behind the bedroom door. There was one more thing to ask of her and then it was time to leave, while his good intentions still ruled his desires. "Would you be willing to visit your ex and check out Cynthia Lotte?"

She hesitated only briefly before she said, "Sure." He saw the hesitation and was once again warmed by her willingness to help. In normal circumstances he knew she'd be avoiding Dickie.

"Anything else I can do for you?" she asked.

He smiled, and when he answered his voice was soft. "Not with your grandmother in the next room." The room was too dark to see, but he felt the heat of her blush. She was attracted to him and it pleased him.

It was just after noon the next day. Ranger had pulled Tank off the Ramos op and sent him back to RangeMan. They still had a business to run. Bobby was on duty as well, but Lester was free to help Ranger. He needed a diagram of the layout of the house at Deal and he knew he'd have to use Stephanie. She could take that big goofy dog and walk him on the beach. It would be a good cover, if she didn't run into Hannibal, who might recognize her as the woman who'd been looking for her cat in the tree behind his house. Maybe he could use Lester as her backup. He remembered Tank's taunting from the day before. Lester would kick Morelli's ass to get a shot at Stephanie. Ranger picked up his cell and dialed Lester's number.

"What's up, boss?" Lester sounded cheerful and it pissed Ranger off.

"Stay away from Deal today," Ranger said curtly. "I don't want any RangeMan presence there. If you want to do something to help, go over the Intel from Manuel. I want to be absolutely positive Ulysses is in Brazil. And take a look into Arturo Stolle's operation. Reevaluate our information on him and see if you can pick up anything new."

"Will do, boss. Have a nice day." He sounded like a TV weatherman.

"Fuck you," was the response. Lester laughed, unperturbed, and disconnected.

Ranger paced the confines of the small living room. He looked down to see the grey cat pacing along with him. Shadow. He was aptly named. The cat's presence should have irritated him, but he found he was glad of the company. One more reason he needed to get the hell out of the house. He remembered Morelli telling him there was no police presence at Deal. He'd ask Stephanie to survey the place and he'd be her back up. She'd never know he was there, and he wouldn't have to worry about Hannibal seeing her and recognizing her. If that happened, he'd be there to help her. He continued his pacing as he dialed her number. The phone rang four times before he heard her voice, and he was relieved he hadn't had to leave a message. He was ready to act, and he wondered what info she'd gleaned from meeting with Cynthia Lotte.

"Hey, Babe," Ranger said. "What have you got for me?"

"Only basic facts on Lotte. Do you want to know where she lives?"

"Pass."

"She looks good in gray."

"That's going to keep me alive."

"Hmm. Feeling cranky today?"

"Cranky doesn't come close. I have a favor to ask. I need you to take a look at the back of the house in Deal. Everyone else on the team would be suspect, but a woman walking her dog down the beach won't feel threatening to Ramos' security. I want you to catalogue the house. Count off windows and doors."

"I can do that," Stephanie said. "How will I get the information to you?"

"I'll get it tonight," he told her. "Be careful." He disconnected and went to the bedroom to dress for his surveillance of Stephanie's surveillance. Loose fitting jeans, athletic shoes and a navy blue t-shirt made him a less obvious target for any random Trenton police officer. He wasn't worried about showing up on some Fed's radar. They'd know what he was there for and they wouldn't bother him. The final touches of his disguise were a Mets cap pulled low on his forehead and a pair of aviator sunglasses. Anyone looking would think he was just an average guy with short hair who needed a shave. As always, he'd be aware of his surroundings. He thought the risk of getting caught was low, and worth the feeling of satisfaction he'd have from actually doing something himself instead of depending on his men.

He saw the Buick and cringed. She needed something inconspicuous. He was parked a distance down the road in a nondescript white Taurus. He sat quietly while she and the dog, Bob, took a walk down the beach. Nothing out of the ordinary happened and he was relieved when he saw her and the dog get back in the car and motor away. He followed the Buick at a discreet distance thinking he'd take a chance and meet with Stephanie before she went home.

What he saw next was disturbing and amazing in equal parts. The Buick was more than a block ahead of him, but there was no doubt the man approaching it was Alexander Ramos. After a brief discussion with Stephanie, Ramos rounded the car and slid into the passenger seat. What had Morelli said about danger finding her? It quickly became apparent what was going on. After a stop for cigarettes they headed to a local bar. This wasn't any part of the plan, so Ranger stayed close and watched. He'd give them a half hour in the bar before he'd go in. When they came out in twenty minutes, he was glad he didn't have to intervene. Having Alexander Ramos connect Stephanie to him would not be a good thing.

It was quiet as he made his way up the stairs to Stephanie's door. The nightly visits were something he was coming to depend upon. It made the forced inactivity of the day tolerable, although he'd successfully gotten out of the safe-house earlier in the day. He was anxious to talk to Stephanie about Ramos, but he hadn't called, as he preferred to get the information face to face. He was about to enter her apartment, again without benefit of a key, when he noticed a small tell-tale spot on the floor a few feet from her door. Blood. He followed a trail of small blood spots to the elevator and quickly returned to her door. He was in her apartment in record time and relieved to see her, uninjured, in her normal place, asleep on the sofa.

She was restless, turning her head from side to side and talking in her sleep. He heard her say something about bottles of beer on the wall, and he reached out to grasp one of her flailing hands. His hand encircled her wrist gently and she sprang in attack. He was thrown off balance by the unexpected movement and he grabbed her as he fell backwards. He hit the end of her coffee table and sent it sliding across the floor. She was falling under him and he tried to brace himself to keep his weight from landing on top of her. When they came to a rest she was beneath him. He grasped both her wrists in a self-protective gesture. He saw her eyes open and saw her realization of two things. She knew there was a man on top of her, and then she knew Ranger was on top of her.

They lay there for a moment groin to groin and chest to chest. Ranger still had her wrists pinned to the floor on either side of her head. "Nice tackle, Babe," he murmured and then he lowered his mouth to hers. Her legs instinctively widened allowing the lower part of him to come in even closer contact. His erection was immediate and intense and he nestled himself tightly between her thighs. He let go of her wrists, and supported himself with one hand while the other found the edge of her t-shirt. They didn't break the kiss, both of them gasping for breath around their tongue play. His hand at the edge of the t-shirt moved upward slowly, his fingers lightly trailing over soft skin in the journey toward their quest. His palm curled around her breast cupping it and his thumb and forefinger found her nipple. Her body arched in response as he caressed her breast and his mouth swallowed her moans of pleasure.

The bedroom door cracked open and a dim light spilled into the room. He heard her granny say, "Is everything okay out here?" He broke the kiss and pulled his head back slightly.

Stephanie's breath came in short gasps, but she managed a reply. "Yep. Everything's just fine."

"Is that Ranger on top of you?"

"He was showing me a self-defense move."

"I wouldn't mind knowing some self-defense," Grandma said.

"Well, we were sort of finishing up here."

Ranger rolled off her, onto his back. He lay spread-eagled, breathing deeply. "If she wasn't your grandmother I'd shoot her." His cock was throbbing and he saw Edna's eyes focus on the lower part of his body. She was old and presumably myopic, but he had no doubt, she knew what she was seeing.

"Darn," Grandma said, "I always miss the good stuff."

Stephanie stood up quickly and adjusted her t-shirt. "You didn't miss much. I was just going to make some hot chocolate. Do you want some?"

"Sure," Grandma said. "I'll go get my bathrobe on."

Ranger looked up at her. It was dark in the room, with only a shaft of light coming from the open bedroom door. Still, it was light enough for her to see that his mouth was smiling, but his eyes were serious. "Saved by the grandma."

"Do you want hot chocolate?" Stephanie asked him.

He followed her out to the kitchen. "Pass."

She gave him the piece of paper with the house design on it. "Here's the diagram you wanted."

"Anything else you want to tell me?" Something in the tone of his voice caused her to turn from her hot chocolate making and look closely at him.

"You know. How do you know?"

"I've been watching the beach house. I saw you pick Ramos up."

She turned back and mixed the cocoa into the hot milk. "Ramos wants me to return today. He offered me a job as his cigarette smuggler."

"That's not a job you want to accept. Alexander can be impulsive and erratic and paranoid. He's on medication, but he doesn't always take it. Hannibal's hired bodyguards to keep an eye on the old man, but he makes them look like amateurs. Sneaks out on them every chance he gets. There's a power struggle going on between him and Hannibal, and you don't want to get caught in the crossfire."

She changed the subject quickly as her grandmother entered the kitchen. "You weren't my only visitor tonight."

"What happened?"

"A failure to appear broke into my apartment. I shot him in the foot, and he left."

"That explains the blood trail from your door to the elevator. Do you need help? Tank is available to you."

"Nah, things are okay," she replied, lifting the steaming mug cautiously to her lips.

"I have to go. Enjoy your hot chocolate." He turned to her granny. "Edna, it was nice to see you again." He walked from the kitchen quickly and let himself out. As the door was closing behind him he heard Edna Mazur's comment.

"What a nice, polite young man, and he's got an excellent package."

He stood in the hallway outside of Stephanie's door, and he looked down to see his hard-on clearly outlined against the fly of his cargos. Get a grip, Mañoso, he told himself, and then with a snort of sardonic laughter he realized he'd probably have to get a firm grip to solve his immediate problem.

.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 18

The warrant for his arrest had been withdrawn. The carrying concealed without a license charge had disappeared and Vinnie's bail money had been electronically re-deposited in the bonds office account. Holly had called to say she needed to see him and they were meeting in the RangeMan conference room later in the afternoon. The stack of paperwork on his desk was high, indicating business was good. He was attired in full RangeMan uniform, the Latino Gap style he'd recently adopted now retired, and there were no impending crises to ruin his day.

He should have been happy, but Carlos Mañoso was not happy. He was pissed off. It was plain for anyone who spent any time around him to see, today was a good day to stay out of his way.

She was driving him crazy.

As the op for Homeland Security was winding down, he had told her on three separate occasions to stay away from Alexander Ramos and on three separate occasions she had met with the gun-running, maniacal idiot.

When he'd called her and found she was with Ramos his temper started to rise and it had leveled off into a slow burn. He knew the anger was fueled by fear for her safety, and that had in turn angered him more. He'd gone as far as to join forces with Morelli, promising the cop he'd put Stephanie into a safe-house until the op was over. Twice he'd tried, and twice he failed.

She was complicated, undisciplined, and freakishly lucky. Her near death experiences occurred with a regularity that made Ranger understand why Morelli made a meal of antacids. She was smart, intuitive, and sexy as hell, even when she had garbage hanging off her, which happened with annoying frequency. And there was chemistry between them. Big time. He knew how to solve that problem, and she knew as well. But she was afraid. That thought made him laugh. She wasn't afraid of him as a man. She stood up to him, yelled at him, lost her temper with him and made him ache with wanting. He thought maybe she was afraid of herself and the reaction she had to him.

And now he'd heard through the Burg grapevine, via Connie, Stephanie Plum was back in bed with Joe Morelli. If she made the choice freely, he wouldn't have been so upset, but he was certain now that she was using Morelli as a buffer between her and him, and he found himself feeling a little sorry for Morelli. Just a little sorry. The dumb SOB had proposed to her in order to turn her mind from the fact she'd seen him with Terry Gilman. Supposedly, according to Tank's relentless stalking of Joe, the cop was staying faithful to her.

He wasn't sure he'd categorize Steph's behavior as faithful. He'd have had her on the floor of her apartment that night, if her grandma hadn't intervened. It would have been a good thing if her granny had stayed asleep, because it needed to happen. They were going to have to diffuse the tension between them. He remembered something from his college chemistry lab. With any chemical reaction, when two volatile compounds reacted, eventually the sizzle would die out and they'd become inert….or blow up the fucking chemistry building.

Now she and Morelli were together, but he couldn't believe she'd be seriously considering his proposal. The frown on his face might have made another man pass by the door to his office with quick steps, but Tank saw the expression as he walked into the office and closed the door behind him, and he didn't hesitate with his inquiry.

"What the hell's wrong with you?"

Ranger took in a slow deep breath, exhaled and stood from behind the pile of paperwork he'd been ignoring. He ran his hand through his hair, surprising himself as he remembered its shortness. He walked to the window and looked down to the street. "I'm not pleased with the outcome of this damn Homeland Security op."

"Why not?" Tank asked. "You got everything you wanted. The Ramos family is out of the drug business. The CIA got a conclusive ID of Homer Ramos living the good life in Greece, which lets you off the hook for his murder, and most importantly, the Ramos family has no idea of your bigger involvement. Homeland Security should be making arrests any day and RangeMan Atlanta will be signing some lucrative contracts to do mid-level government security work. How can you be anything but pleased?"

"I'm not pleased with Stephanie's involvement," he told Tank. "We're lucky she didn't end up dead. Everyone involved worked within the specific limits I set for them, except Stephanie. I thought she'd come farther in her training and now I see she's got a long way to go yet."

"That's not true and you know it," Tank said. "She doesn't operate like the men you're used to commanding. She has no military background, so why should she? But she's capable. And she must have known what she was doing. She never gave up on her target and got good information, and she got a marriage proposal out of the deal."

"You know about that?" Ranger asked in surprise, his mind going back to Stephanie and the cop. He knew Tank kept a close eye on Morelli, but he didn't know where he'd picked up that Intel. Unless it was from Connie. "Connie tell you that?" he asked.

"Close," Tank said. "I heard it from the source, Stephanie, but she was in the bonds office telling Lula and Connie. Which reminds me, I came in here to tell you Vinnie needs to talk to you."

"She was talking about it in the bonds office?" Ranger asked again. He'd known Stephanie long enough to know she usually kept her personal life out of Plum Bail Bonds if she could. "What did she say about it?" His curiosity was driving him to ask something he'd normally consider wasn't his business.

"She said he was persistent, but she didn't take him seriously. He said women used to come after him for his balls, but he'd had surgery and couldn't get it up anymore. He'd compensate for that by giving her free access to his money."

"Morelli is impotent?" Ranger said, truly astounded.

"Morelli?" Tank was puzzled. "No, man, Ramos. Alexander Ramos."

"Alexander Ramos proposed marriage to Stephanie?"

"Yeah, at Sal's bar." Tank said.

"Shit!"

"Why'd you think I was talking about Morelli?"

"Because," Ranger said, "Morelli proposed to her the night after she saw him with Terry Gilman."

"Shit."

Both men were silent for a while, each realizing the implication of what the other had said, then Tank turned to leave. He turned back, almost as an afterthought and said, "Don't forget, Vinnie needs to talk to you. He's got a big bond FTA in Puerto Rico and he needs someone to transport him. You're the only one licensed around here to bring someone in from out of state, but I told him I didn't know if you could get away."

"I'll call him," Ranger said. He knew he'd go. He needed to put a little space between himself and Trenton. He sat down at the desk and started in on the tower of paper. His phone rang and he sighed as he looked at the caller ID.

"Hello, Mother."

"Carlos, you sound tired. Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine, Mama. I don't mean to be abrupt, but I'm in the middle of something here and I really don't have much time."

"You can give me thirty seconds," she said. "All I want to know is that you're safe. There has been talk and I…"

"What kind of talk?" he interrupted her. He'd never actually been arrested for the murder of Homer Ramos and the police had been unusually quiet about their interest in him. The carrying concealed charge was in the paper at the time, but not near the front page.

"Well, it was just… I had a feeling and…" She was stumbling, and hesitant. Not his mother's normal mode of communication.

"Mother?"

"Oh, all right. I don't want to get in your business, but I worry. Pierre told Ana you might be out of touch for a while, but he said there was nothing to worry about and I really don't want to be intrusive, but I worry."

"I'm fine, Mama. I was unavailable for a few days, but I'm back at work and very busy. I may be leaving for a couple of days to bring an FTA back from Puerto Rico, but I don't know the details yet. I can take care of myself, Mama. You don't need to worry. I'll get out to see you when I can, but it may be a couple of weeks. And why is Tank talking to Ana about me?"

"Why wouldn't he talk to his girlfriend about her brother? The two of you are almost like brothers yourselves, aren't you?"

"We're…close," he said. "Mama, I have to go. I'll call you soon. I love you." He disconnected. Tank and Ana. He stood to go in search of Tank, but his phone rang again and he spent the next quarter-hour discussing the need for more help in the research department with Rodriguez.

When he exited his office and went in search of Tank he was told Tank was at a commercial installation site with Woody and Hector and wasn't expected back until late afternoon. The rumbling of his stomach reminded him it was lunchtime so he went to the break room to see what Ella had stocked. Vince and one of the new hires were sitting at a table engaging in a friendly conversation. They nodded to him and grew silent while he made his way to the refrigerator and pulled out a sandwich and a bottle of water. He guessed his expression still proclaimed 'keep away' and he didn't attempt to rectify the tension his presence was causing in the room. Better to lock himself in his office and plow through the work at hand, he thought, and he did.

At three p.m. his phone rang and he was alerted to Holly's arrival. He left his office and went to the elevator to meet her. There had only been one other face-to-face meeting since 'the night' and he'd kept his promise. He ushered her into the conference room. One wall was half-glass and had a view of the monitor bays. Depending on the meeting the blinds were sometimes closed, obscuring the view, but today they were wide open. He'd promised Holly their meetings would be held in a professional setting and he was keeping his word. It could have been awkward for both of them, but Holly acted in her usual way and conversation flowed normally between them.

As she opened her briefcase and began setting spreadsheets on the table he noticed her appearance. The resemblance was there, but Holly was muted, whereas Stephanie was Technicolor. Holly had been wrong in what she'd done, but he knew the primary responsibility fell on his shoulders, and he wouldn't be making that mistake again. They sat and he listened intently to her report.

"The final insurance settlement has been made on the Porsche and BMW," she said. "The insurance paid a large part of the cost, but after the deductibles and the increase in premiums you are still out about fifteen thousand. It would have made things easier if you'd had the driver officially listed on your employment roster."

"I'll make up the cost, personally," he told her.

"No problem," Holly said. "I can transfer funds for you. I would like you to look at this roster though. You've hired new people and I added Ms. Plum's name to the list. These are the benefits eligible people. I assumed you'd want her included."

Ranger didn't answer immediately. He remembered what Stephanie had said when they'd talked just a few days earlier.

"I'm terminating your employment," he'd told her. He'd been direct and so had her response.

"You and Morelli made a deal, didn't you?" she'd asked. "I'm being cut out of the program, shoved aside like unnecessary baggage. Or worse, like a liability. Was this Morelli's idea?"

"It was my idea, Babe." He'd grabbed hold of her wrist. "You're not especially good at following instructions, but you're going to listen to me on this, right? You're going to walk away. And you're going to be careful."

She'd never given him a straight answer, and she hadn't walked away. She'd come through with good Intel and apparently gotten a marriage proposal from Alexander Ramos. She was incredible.

"Carlos?" Holly's voice brought him back to the present. Stephanie was not his employee, but he wanted to accept the liability. He wanted to keep her safe.

"Yes," he told Holly, "I want her included on the benefits list. And while we're reviewing the budget, there is another change I want to make. We need to add another line item."

Holly pulled out a legal pad and prepared to make notes. Ranger hesitated. He wasn't going to list Stephanie, by name, on the budget, but she'd been costing him money. There were the cars he'd given her and he was sure there'd be more, and there was the surveillance expense and the man-hours he burned when she needed a little extra security. And Tank's ongoing surveillance of the cop. He looked up to see Holly waiting patiently. "Label the expense _Entertainment_," he told her and then they began to run numbers.

"One last thing," Holy said as she snapped the clasp of her briefcase. "When the contracts you're expecting for Atlanta come through you're going to need to restructure the financials for that office. You'll be adding staff, I presume."

"Yes," Ranger told her, "but it's a little early for that. It's the government we're talking about and they don't always move fast."

She stood and stretched and picked up her purse and briefcase. "This was a productive meeting," she told him. "I'll just wait until you're in touch…Oh!" Her eyes widened and Ranger turned to follow her line of sight, looking immediately for a threat. There was nothing.

"What did you see that startled you?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Holly said. "It was just so unexpected. It must have been a play of the light of the window, but for a moment I thought I saw a sleek grey cat."

The little hairs on the back of his neck stood up. "I'm sure it was just a trick of light," he told her. "There are no cats at RangeMan." He escorted her to the elevator and made a quick inspection of the floor. Everything was in order.

When he returned to his office he sat for a moment, thinking about Atlanta and the increase in business as well as the other topics he and Holly had discussed. Things were going well, and if the financial picture continued to improve there'd be bonuses for his employees. At first they'd be semi-annual, but eventually he would bonus his men quarterly. It was something he very much wanted to make happen. With the government work RangeMan Atlanta would be doing, he'd need to reevaluate his management there. He had an idea he didn't want to consider, but it wouldn't be fair not to.

He was about to pick up the phone to call Vinnie when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked up in time to see the cat jump into his lap. "Hello, Shadow," he said quietly. "I thought Tank had found you a home." The cat ignored him and rooted around until he was comfortable. Ranger sighed and picked up the phone to call Vinnie and get the details on his upcoming trip to Puerto Rico.

As he disconnected with Vinnie he became aware of voices coming from the monitor bay. He scooped the cat up with one hand and went to see what the commotion was about. Ella stood in the center of a group of his men talking animatedly, her hands in motion. She was distraught, the emotion showing clearly on her face.

"What's wrong?" Ranger asked. The group turned as one toward him. Shadow wiggled in his arm and he bent and let the cat down.

"Shadow," Ella exclaimed. "Oh, you sweet kitty! Come here, come to Ella." The cat did. He ran across the room and Ella bent to pick him up. "Oh Carlos, thank you for finding Shadow. Luis and I just adopted him. Tank found him for us. I brought him downstairs a short time ago when I came to stock the break room refrigerator, and he disappeared. I'm so sorry if he bothered you."

"He didn't bother me," Ranger said. "Shadow and I are old friends."

"You should have Tank find a cat for you," Ella told him.

"No." Ranger said. "There are no cats at RangeMan." At Ella's stricken look he amended his statement. "Shadow can visit…occasionally." He turned and walked back into his office.

The day was winding down and Tank hadn't made an appearance back at RangeMan. Ranger's desk was finally clear and he was getting ready to go up to seven when he heard the door to the stairwell open. He looked out of his office to see Woody and Tank standing in front of the door, their eyes and attention focused on some sort of architectural drawing.

He walked across the room to see what had their attention. It was a schematic of the installation where, presumably Tank had spent the day with Woody and Hector. He could see there was a problem, but it sounded from the conversation between Tank and Woody they were on top of it. "I'm on my way up to seven," he told them. "Tank, when you're done here could you give me a half hour or so?"

"Yeah," Tank said. "I'll come up now. I was gonna find you anyway to tell you about this screw-up." They walked up the stairs to seven and as had happened so often before, Tank made himself at home while Ranger raided the refrigerator for cold beer.

Ranger handed a beer to Tank and asked, "What screw-up?"

"The client rep gave us the wrong building dimensions," Tank told him. "Woody reconfigured on the spot and between him and Hector they had the situation under control. They just wanted me to be there to smooth over any possible problems, and they wanted me to be the one to explain the increased cost to the client."

"How'd that go?" Ranger asked.

"It went fine. The client copped to the mistake and he was apologetic for the confusion. Woody is sharp and what could have been a big deal was nothing much, because he fixed the problem so smoothly."

"Good." Ranger took Tank's estimate of Woody seriously. He'd felt the young designer would be an asset to RangeMan and he was glad his instincts were proving to be correct. "I had a meeting with Holly today," he said, deliberately changing the subject. "We're in pretty good shape and when the Atlanta office gets its contracts things will be booming down there. I'm going to look for a more experienced manager."

"That's not surprising," Tank said. "You'll have to add staff other than just a manager."

"Holly and I agreed on that," Ranger said. "You want the job?"

"Me?" Tank asked. He took a long swallow of beer and shook his head. "No way, man. I'm not cut out for that."

"You are cut out for that," Ranger told him. "You're intelligent, a hard worker, a natural leader and a shareholder, and the job's yours, if you want it."

"I don't want it, man."

"Is that because you don't want to leave your girlfriend, my sister?" Ranger asked.

"Who told you Ana was my girlfriend?" Tank demanded.

"My mother."

"Your mother told you I was Ana's boyfriend?" Tank asked, his voice dangerously quiet, "and now you're trying to buy me off, by shipping my ass to Atlanta? You're that pissed about me seeing your sister?"

"Fuck no!" Ranger said, his voice not nearly as quiet as Tank's. "I'm pissed off because I had to hear it from my mother. And I'm not shipping you off anywhere. I don't want to lose you here, but I thought I had to make the offer. It's a great opportunity, and you deserve it. I depend on you here. We're brothers and I thought you'd tell me if you were involved with my sister." Ranger was upset and his thoughts were jumbled and spilling out in a disorderly fashion. He realized it, but couldn't seem to rein himself in. "I'm trying to do the right thing and give you an opportunity."

"Screw the opportunity," Tank said. "The truth is I'm not Ana's 'boyfriend'. What an asinine word. I'm her friend. We are close, but neither one of us really knows where it's going. She's being groomed to take over your father's business. As soon as she finishes school she's going full-time with your father. And I never saw myself with an artsy-type. Hell, I'm sure she never saw herself with a beat-up ex-Special Forces, bounty-hunter, security geek."

Ranger smiled at Tank's description of himself. "I don't want you to go to Atlanta," he told Tank. "I think your place is here, but I felt I had to offer you the chance."

Tank nodded, "I understand that, and I appreciate the offer, but Ana or not, I'm not leaving RangeMan Trenton. And the reason I didn't tell you, is Ana asked me not to. I think she's embarrassed for her brother to know private details of her life."

"Did you tell her you don't kiss and tell?"

Tank looked up to see Ranger smiling and he relaxed and drained his bottle in one big thirsty gulp.

"You got any cash in your pocket?" he asked Ranger.

Ranger frowned at the sudden change in topic. "A couple of hundred," he replied. "You need a loan?"

"Not yet," Tank said. "I was going to find you if you hadn't found me. A bunch of the guys are playing poker tonight in Shorty's back room. I was supposed to tell you to come with full pockets. There ain't nothing like going home after a night of poker with the boss man's money in your clip."

Ranger's first instinct was to say no, but he held his thought in check. He needed to socialize with the men more and this would be a good way to do it.

Tank sensed his hesitancy. "I know you're a good player, but you don't need to worry about cleaning your men out, they're planning on taking you to the cleaners. Woody's nearly a pro, and Lester cheats. You'll have a hard time hanging on to your chips."

Why the hell not, Ranger thought. Shorty's pizza and cold beer sounded appealing. And he could use a night where his biggest worry was trying to figure out if Lester was bluffing. "Okay, but you better find us a designated driver."

"We'll cut cards when we get there," Tank told him. "Low man drinks soda and drives home." Ranger's mood lifted and for the first time that day he was glad to be back at RangeMan.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit**

Chapter 19

Ranger was in hiding and wouldn't come out until the next day. Carlos Mañoso was in full view though, as he walked into the lobby of the Chateau Cervantes. This was the type of hotel his family had always stayed in during their travels. Small and exclusive, the hotel was unknown to the masses of tourists who invaded Puerto Rico annually, and it was happy to stay that way.

The desk clerk looked up at him and smiled, "May I help you, sir?"

"Carlos Mañoso."

"Yes sir, we've been expecting you. Your suite is ready, so you can go up any time, but you've arrived in the middle of happy hour and perhaps you'd like to visit the lounge for a drink."

What the hell, he was here early to unwind and think some things through without interruption. A drink might be a good way to start. He smiled his acquiescence and the desk clerk assured him his luggage would be taken to his room.

He walked through the lobby and into the lounge. His black dress slacks and back silk shirt made him stand out against the pale tropical pastels of both the décor and the other guests, but he felt no self-consciousness. He accepted the bartender's suggestion of whiskey and coconut water and found the drink to be palatable and exactly right for the late afternoon hour. He found a vacant club chair and settled comfortably into the soft cushions. He sipped his drink, closed his eyes and let the tensions of travel flow from his body. The soft sound of piano music mixed with the occasional clink of glassware and the low hum of conversation, and he knew he'd made the right decision to come a day early.

It was the scent that alerted him first. Cloying and sweet it descended on him like a dense fog. He opened his eyes to see a woman had set her drink on the table next to his chair and was currently settling into the deep overstuffed sofa across from him. Her eyes took in his legs stretched casually in front of him and began a slow journey up his body.

She met his gaze. "Oh, hello. I hope I'm not disturbing you." She was.

"No" he responded courteously. "I'm just unwinding after a long flight."

"I've been here a day, so I'm pretty much unwound," she said laughing at her small joke. "My name is Sherrie," she said. "Like the wine."

"Carlos, like…Carlos."

"Carlos." She trilled the r making his name sound faintly ridiculous. "Are you here on vacation, Carlos?"

"No, business. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Oh, well. That's a shame. I'll get right to the point then. Are you free tonight? The hotel has a marvelous dining room."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not interested."

"That's okay, Carlos. There are plenty of other great places to eat and some great nightclubs. We can find a place that pleases you."

He looked at her and took in her appearance. She was tall and willowy with long straight blonde hair shot with highlights. They might have come from the sun, but Ranger was betting they came from a pricey salon. She was dressed in a simple style that showed her body to its best advantage. Her lips were curved in an inviting smile. She was beautiful. He wasn't interested.

"Let me be clearer," he said. "I'm _not_ interested."

"Oh," she said, realization dawning in her eyes. "I'm not usually wrong. I didn't have you pegged for, well, you know…a man who isn't interested in women." She picked up her drink and made her way across the lounge to another grouping of sofas.

A man who isn't interested in women. She thought he was gay. He smiled as he drained his drink and stood to make his way up to his room. He faltered for a moment when he realized the truth of her statement. He wasn't interested in women. He was interested in _a _woman, and he was going to go to his room and figure out just what to do about it.

He spent a solitary night laying out and discarding strategies. He'd considered his options, set a definite goal and accepted the fact it had to be Stephanie's decision. He'd methodically gone over every physical interaction they'd had, and it had resulted in a damnably sleepless night, but the morning came and brought with it a plan. He wanted her and he wanted to keep her friendship. His life was much easier when she was just his friend and not the object of his constant desire.

He had to have her to satisfy the hunger and then they could be friends again. It was possible, he was sure of it. The key was it had to be her decision. He'd be honest and straightforward about his intentions. He wasn't looking for a romantic relationship, but he didn't want to kill the friendship. He wanted a night to scratch the itch that was driving him insane. He knew she felt it too, so he'd continue to use every opportunity to show her he desired her. At some point she'd come to him, and they'd have a night neither one of them would ever forget.

The night they'd shared a meal at Rossini's had been very telling. She'd talked briefly about her marriage to Dickie, but Ranger could tell she was uncomfortable talking about it, even to him. Infidelity was a hard blow to recover from. It was a mystery why she was with Morelli, who had a history of philandering. There was more to that story than he knew. Maybe it was a familial pressure pushing her toward Morelli, or maybe she couldn't shake the history that held them together. Whatever the cause, it was of no consequence; there would be no relationship between him and Steph. There would just be the one night.

When he left the hotel room in the pre-dawn, he was tired but determined and he pushed thoughts of Stephanie to the back of his mind to concentrate on the job at hand. Bringing in an FTA by air travel was fraught with the possibility of failure. Vinnie was very good at his job, something that was easy to overlook when you were in his presence. He'd done his job well this time as Ranger really was acting more as a chaperone than a captor. The FTA, Angel Davila, would be brought to the airport by armed guards, and then turned over to an unarmed Ranger. He was comfortable with this, because he had no choice. They would be the last to enter the plane and the first to exit, where they'd be met by Tank and Lester, who would be armed and would transport Davila to the Federal authorities who would take him into custody to await trial, this time without the opportunity for bail.

The boarding was flawless. They sat in first class which Vinnie always bitched about, but it was the safest. It was easier to board last and deplane first from first class, and it kept a certain distance between the FTA and the other passengers, as the expensive seats were rarely full. Davila seemed resigned to his fate. He was alert and interested in his surroundings, and tried in vain to lure Ranger into conversation. When there was no response from Ranger, he turned his attention on the flight attendant, charmingly demanding all that was his due as a first class passenger, despite the leg shackles and the handcuffs. Ranger allowed him the warm blanket and the eye mask, thinking maybe he'd sleep or at least stop his inane chatter. He forbade him the complimentary glass of champagne.

The flight was on time arriving in Newark just after ten a.m. and they were preparing to deplane when Davila turned to Ranger and spoke in the same friendly tone he'd been attempting to converse in for the entire trip. "Let me explain, Mr. Mañoso, or is it Ranger? You will turn me free as we exit the airport. You will not place me in the waiting vehicle, but will let me go, and for this courtesy I will see that no harm comes to your beautiful Tulia."

Ranger quickly un-cuffed Davila, whose hands had been cuffed in front for the air travel. He grasped both hands and pulled them viciously behind Davila's back re-hooking the cuffs and ratcheting them tight against the skin of his wrists. He stood behind Davila and walked the FTA off the plane. His words were low and delivered without emotion.

"Your information is out of date and inaccurate. Tulia was never 'my Tulia', although at one time she was my…companion. She's been involved with another gentleman for a few months now. Your threat is taken seriously though, and should harm befall Ms. Campos your threat will only strengthen the case against you. Now walk." Ranger shoved him forward with an aggressive thrust. As they exited the tunnel he saw Lester and Tank waiting.

"This piece of shit just threatened an acquaintance of mine," Ranger said to his men. "Watch him carefully, because I think it was just a bluff, but he could have accomplices on the ground. Once you have him safely in the vehicle, leave quickly. Change your planned course, even if it means you take a circuitous route and check in as soon as you turn him over."

There were two black vehicles illegally parked in the unloading zone. Davila was hoisted into the back seat of the SUV and Tank took the driver's seat with Lester riding next to the FTA. Ranger watched until they were out of sight and then slid into the Mercedes and drove away from the tow zone. He exited the airport traffic lanes and placed a call to Connie. "We're on the ground and Davila's being transported by my men. Someone will stop in with the body receipt later today."

"Okay, you want me to send the check to RangeMan?"

"Yes." He was about to disconnect when Connie continued. "Steph's trying to get hold of you. If I see her I'll tell her you're back in town."

"She's got my number." He disconnected and called RangeMan. He resisted the urge to ask for Bobby. Hal was on duty and Hal was capable.

"Tank and Lester are on their way with Davila. They'll call when he's in custody. I need to have a security detail placed on Tulia Campos for the next forty-eight hours. Invisible. She doesn't need to know she's being watched. Davila tried to get to me by threatening her. His information was a little out of date, so I'm thinking it was a last ditch attempt, just a bluff, but we can't take chances. Take care of it."

"Consider it done."

Ranger went back to Haywood and straight to the locker room. He stripped and pulled on shorts in preparation for a work-out. It was nearing noon and he expected the place to be empty, but he found Woody half-heartedly stretching in preparation for a run on the treadmill. Ranger tilted his head toward the ring and Woody shot back a big, toothy grin. "If you think you're up to it," he told his boss. Ranger hid a smile. He liked Woody and once again remembered he'd not have found him without his mother's interference. Maybe he'd surprise his mother and father by showing up for dinner. He stepped into the ring and automatically blocked a punch to the gut. Woody wasn't wasting any time getting the chance to pummel the boss. He focused on the task at hand and enjoyed himself for the next twenty minutes.

He and Woody parted, each with a new respect for the other's capabilities. A shower was his next priority and he headed to seven. He hadn't said anything to Ella, but he approved of her choice of toiletries. He lathered his body with copious amounts of the scented shower gel and stood letting the hot massaging streams sluice the lather from his body. He emerged to see his missed call light blinking, and when he checked the caller ID he saw he'd missed three calls. He returned them in the order they'd come in.

Tank reported they'd dropped Davila off with no problem. The second call was from Hal reporting he was watching Tulia and had a roster lined up for the next forty-eight hours. All was calm. The third call was from Stephanie. He hit redial and waited.

"Hello," she said brightly. She sounded glad to be talking to him. He wondered if she'd missed him. It had been awhile since they'd seen one another.

"Yo," Ranger said.

"I could use some help with an FTA."

"What's your problem?"

"He's old, and I'll look like a loser if I shoot him."

Ranger laughed. What she'd said was true. Senior citizens were surprisingly hard to capture. "What's he done?"

"Everything. It's Eddie DeChooch."

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No. I want you to give me some ideas on how to bring him in without killing him. I'm afraid if I zap him with the stun gun he'll go toes-up."

"Tag team him with Lula. Book-end him and cuff him."

"Already tried that."

"He got away from you and Lula? Babe, he must be eighty. He can't see. He can't hear. He takes an hour and a half to empty his bladder."

"It was complicated."

"You could try shooting him in the foot next time," Ranger said. "That usually works." He was laughing as he severed the connection. Eddie DeChooch was a watered down Burg version of Alexander Ramos. If Stephanie worked a proposal out of Ramos then she'd sweet-talk DeChooch into giving himself up. In his day he'd been a terror, but mostly he was old and trying to occupy his days with small time crime. It was the kind of skip Stephanie excelled at bringing in.

He dressed and made his way down to five where he had a late afternoon appointment with a rep from Homeland Security. He knew they wanted RangeMan Atlanta's help with immigration and security checks. It was rare for the government to subcontract this type of transaction and he felt a sense of pride they were going to use RangeMan.

The rep was on time and the meeting went well, but at its end Ranger was tired. His day had started in Puerto Rico and he was feeling as though it were over, even though it was still late afternoon. He put his earlier plans to make a surprise visit to his parents on hold.

He called Rodriguez and told him about the threat from Davila regarding Tulia. If anyone could ferret out a connection, it would be Rodriguez, but he wasn't expecting anything. Certain aspects of his relationship with Tulia had been in the public eye since their families had a long and amicable relationship. It drove home to him the impossibility of forming a relationship with anyone. He had enemies, and he would make more. It was his chosen life and it didn't mesh well with home, hearth and family. As if on cue, his phone rang. It was Stephanie.

"Yo."

"I'm going to bail on this case," she said. "I'm going to hand it off to you."

"You don't usually bail," Ranger said. "What's the deal here?"

"DeChooch is making me look like an idiot."

"And?"

"Dougie Kruper is missing. Do you know Dougie the Dealer? I think his disappearance is somehow tied to DeChooch. I'm worried that I'm endangering Dougie because I keep screwing up with DeChooch."

He knew Dougie the Dealer. He was a small time hood who dealt exclusively in stolen merchandise, everything from cars to underwear. If it fell off a truck in the tri-state area it landed in Dougie's hands. Ranger figured the reason he was still in business was because he did so much business with the Trenton PD.

"Dougie Kruper was probably abducted by aliens," he said. He didn't know of any connection between Dougie and DeChooch, and he tended to know about connections.

"Do you want to take the case, or what?"

"I don't want it."

"Fine. The hell with you." She hung up on him. He wasn't in the mood to deal with a pissy Stephanie after the day he'd had. He thought they should have a talk.

It was close to five when he heard her at the door to her apartment. She opened the door and walked halfway into the room before she saw him, and then she stifled a shriek. He saw her body slump in relief when she recognized him. He'd been waiting only a few minutes, but it was long enough. As he'd waited for her he realized she'd handed him the opportunity he needed, and he wasn't going to pass it up. He sat still, forcing himself to stay relaxed and watched her for a moment. Then he spoke.

"You hung up on me," he said. "Don't ever hang up on me."

His voice was quiet, but as always the authority was unmistakable. He was wearing black dress slacks, a long-sleeved lightweight black sweater pushed up on his forearms, and expensive black loafers. He hadn't taken time to change after his appointment and he knew she wasn't used to seeing him like that. It was probably why it had taken her a few seconds to realize it was him. Either that or she was having regular unexpected visitors again. He didn't want to think about that.

"Are you in disguise?" she asked.

He watched her without answering. "What's in the bag?" He nodded to a brown paper bag she had a tight hold on.

"An emergency cinnamon bun." He almost smiled. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I thought we might make a deal. How bad do you want DeChooch?"

"I want him bad. What did you have in mind?"

"You find DeChooch. If you need help bringing him in you call me. If I succeed in the capture, you spend a night with me."

"A…a night?" she asked.

"Sundown 'til sunrise, Babe." He stared at her and saw her nipples pebble and stand erect, clearly visible through the soft cotton of her t-shirt and bra. He'd seen her naked and he wanted to see her that way again. He shifted slightly in the chair to accommodate his own reaction.

"I'm sort of engaged to Morelli," she said.

Ranger smiled.

They stared at one another, neither one wanting to break eye contact. There was the sound of a key being inserted in her door lock and the door swung open. Morelli strode in dragging Mooner, Dougie's drugged-out friend, behind him. He nodded to Ranger, not questioning his presence in Steph's apartment.

"Game over?" she asked Morelli.

Morelli raised his voice and glared at her. "The game's over and the baby-sitting is over. And I don't ever want to see this guy again." He let go of Mooner, who ambled to the end of the sofa, and oblivious of the conversation or people in the room sat Indian-style on the end cushion and began to hum.

Ranger stood and passed Stephanie a card with a name and address written on it. "The owner of the white Cadillac DeChooch is driving," he said. "I'm giving you a little free help." He slipped into a black leather jacket to cover the ever present gun and left.

He stood on the landing at the top of the stairs for a moment. He didn't think Morelli was acting like a fiancé. He'd walked into the apartment and never even questioned what Ranger was doing there. The sexual tension in the room had been palpable, but Joe didn't notice. There'd been no kiss hello or kind words for Stephanie. But then she hadn't said they were engaged. She'd said they were _sort_ of engaged, and sort of left a lot of room for interpretation. For the first time that day he was in a good mood.

When and if they slept together was Stephanie's choice. He was betting on the when. He knew Eddie DeChooch and his cronies and he was going to make himself very accessible to Stephanie. He'd answer questions, pass information to her and make sure he was available to help. The more he was present in her life, the better the chance he'd be the one to bring in DeChooch. He called Tank and started the ball rolling. He put some of his best men on DeChooch surveillance. He was standing by his word and she would make the decision to call him, or not. It would be a smart move to make sure the odds were in his favor and he'd already started stacking the deck.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit. **

Chapter 20

Hal did a good job running the security watch on Tulia Campos. She was unaware anyone had been tracking her movements and protecting her safety. There had been no threat to her in the forty-eight hours following the re-incarceration of Angel Davila and Ranger felt good about pulling the detail off Tulia. He looked at Hal's report and found nothing to criticize, either in the detail or the reporting of it. He was not, by nature, a micro manager, but it was still difficult to let someone else run a security detail. RangeMan was growing at such a rate he could no longer be hands on with every small operation. He'd thoroughly vetted every new employee and Hal had just proved he was capable. Ranger knew his job was overseeing the day-to-day operations and not being a part of them, but he was finding the transition from operative to handler to be more difficult than he'd thought.

He filed the report from Hal in his completed folder and turned to an unsolicited report from Tank. Stephanie Plum had been in an altercation at Stiva's Funeral Home over a parking space. An elderly woman had attacked Stephanie, and her grandma and sister had come to her defense. The ensuing melee resulted in an accident between Eddie DeChooch, driving a white Cadillac, and two parked cars. No arrests were made as Morelli stepped in and separated the parties. The only injured party was Stephanie with a possible broken nose. Ranger stopped reading. He hoped her nose wasn't broken. A bump from a fracture would add character, but there was something sexy about the straight profile with the slightly upturned tip.

Why or how Tank had come upon this information was a mystery, and why he felt the need to send it in report form to Ranger even more of a mystery. Tank was unaware of the deal he'd made with Stephanie, but he'd given Ranger good news. DeChooch had slipped through her fingers again. His cell rang and he looked at the display to see Stephanie's number.

"Yo."

"Help," she said. He detected a faint nasal tone in her voice.

"Heard you got trashed by some old lady last night," Ranger said. "We've got to get you some self-defense lessons, Babe. Not good for the image to get trashed by an old lady."

"I have bigger problems than that. I was baby-sitting Mooner and he disappeared."

"Maybe he just split."

"Maybe he didn't."

"He driving a car?"

"His car's still in my lot."

Ranger let the silence lie there for a beat. "I'll ask around and get back to you." Mooner was generally thought of as being harmless, so Ranger wasn't too worried someone had abducted him, but he decided to make a few inquiries with some of the people Mooner bought from. He needed to go by the bonds office and drop off BEA licenses for a couple of the new hires, so he'd ask about Mooner while he was out.

Ranger arrived at the bonds office two hours later with no news of Mooner. No one had seen him or had any news regarding him. He was pleased when he saw Steph's car out front as he could pass the information on directly. He opened the door to the bonds office to see Connie at her desk and Lula perched ass half-on, half hanging off the edge of Connie's desk. Stephanie was standing with her back to him and all three women were staring intently at the closed door to Vinnie's office. They were totally unaware of his presence. He walked quietly across the room and stood silently behind Stephanie. She usually sensed his presence, but she was so focused on the closed door she gave no indication she knew he was behind her.

Connie spoke without looking away from the door, her voice hushed as if she was whispering in church. "You should have been here from the beginning, Steph," she whispered. "They've been at it for ten minutes now."

"Yeah, Stephanie. You should have been here in the beginning when Vinnie was making sounds like a cow. Think Joyce must have been milking him," Lula said.

Some low-key grunting and moaning was going on beyond the closed door. The grunting stopped and Ranger saw all three women lean forward expectantly. They were listening to Vinnie have sex, of some sort, with Joyce Barnhardt he realized.

"This is my favorite part," Lula said. "This is where they get to the spanking and Joyce barks like a dog."

Stephanie took another step nearer to the closed door. Ranger reached out his hand and grabbed her ponytail and pulled her back. "Glad to see you're hard at work looking for Mooner."

"Shhh. I want to hear Joyce bark like a dog."

Ranger had her flat against him, and he could feel the heat from her body seeping into his. "Not sure that's worth waiting for, Babe."

There was some slapping and some squealing and then there was silence.

"Well, that was fun," Lula said, "but there's gonna be a price for the entertainment. Joyce only goes in there when she wants something. And there's only one high-bond case pending right now."

Stephanie turned as far as Ranger's hold on her ponytail would allow toward Connie. "Eddie DeChooch? Vinnie wouldn't give Eddie over to Joyce, would he?"

"Nah," Connie said. "He wouldn't do that for daytime office sex. There'd have to be way more involved, you know, like with whips and it'd be later after we've all gone home, so we couldn't hear the loud screaming. And anyway, I thought you wanted to give up on Eddie DeChooch. Joyce kind of deserves the old fart."

Ranger listened intently for her answer, his hand still holding tight to her hair. "I don't want Joyce to get the case," she told Connie. "There is something going on with DeChooch and Dougie and Mooner. I've got to find them, because it could be my fault they're missing."

He didn't know what he'd expected her to say. She couldn't tell these women that she needed the DeChooch case so she'd have an excuse to sleep with him, but he was pretty sure that's why she was adamant about Joyce not getting the file. He'd given her the perfect out. She could tell herself she had no choice…she had to live up to her end of the bargain, but he'd know the truth and deep, deep down, beneath her ever present denial, she'd know too.

The door opened and Joyce flounced out. "I'll need the paperwork on DeChooch," she said.

Stephanie lunged at her, but Ranger still had hold of her hair, so she didn't get very far. "Vinnie," she yelled, "get out here!"

The door to Vinnie's inner office crashed closed and there was the sound of the lock clicking into place.

Lula and Connie glared at Joyce.

"It's going to take a while to get the paperwork together," Connie said. "Maybe days."

"No problem," Joyce said. "I'll be back." She glanced over at Stephanie. "Nice eye. Very attractive."

Ranger's hand slid from Stephanie's hair to her neck and he applied a little pressure so she turned toward him. He saw the black eye and noticed there was no bump on her nose. Not broken then, but probably sore and painful just the same.

He once again pulled her body back against his and he heard her indrawn breath, followed in succession by indrawn breaths from Connie and Lula. Now that Joyce was gone they were aware of his presence and he knew if he didn't turn Steph loose, Connie would be fanning herself shortly.

"Don't move," he said softly into her ear. "I'll take care of Vinnie for you." He walked across the room and shielded their line of sight with his body. He stood in front of the door for only a few seconds, his fingers working their magic on the lock. There was a soft clicking sound and the door swung open, and he walked through.

"What the fu..oh, uh…Ranger," was all that was heard from Vinnie before the door closed behind Ranger. He came out five minutes later and walked back to stand close to Steph.

"Don't think you need to worry about Joyce, Babe," Ranger said. No way in hell was he going to let the slimy little cock sucker take away the deal he'd made with Stephanie. "I've got bad news about Mooner. None of my contacts have seen anyone meeting Mooner's description."

Lula and Connie looked toward Stephanie. "What's happened to Mooner?"

"Disappeared," she said. "Just like Dougie, and it might be my fault."

"What are you doing today?" Ranger asked her.

"Looking for Mooner and Dougie and Eddie DeChooch."

"I'll look with you," he said. "It might not hurt for the people involved to know I'm interested in finding them, too." He watched Stephanie straighten her posture and tilt her head to one side. She was trying to decide if he had insulted her in some way, by suggesting she'd have better luck with him along. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay," she said. "Where should we start?"

"The Snake Pit, and Dave Vincent," Ranger said. He put his hand on her back and moved her toward the door. The drive to the Snake Pit was accomplished in silence. Something that wasn't unusual for Ranger, but definitely not the norm for his passenger.

"You're quiet today," he said. "Is your nose bothering you?"

"No, but I could have taken her," Stephanie replied. "It's the same thing as DeChooch. She was old. If I'd knocked her out of the way I'd be the talk of the Burg. Instead, I let her hit me, and I'm the talk of the Burg." She sighed. "I just want to get DeChooch and find Dougie and Mooner."

They made their way past a cleaning crew into the Snake Pit. Dave Vincent was sitting at the counter, and Ranger introduced Stephanie to him. Ranger watched her eyes wander around the place, and he saw her attention wasn't focused on the job at hand. He continued as he'd planned and hoped she would learn from him.

"We're looking for Eddie DeChooch," Ranger said to Vincent.

Dave Vincent shrugged. "I haven't seen him."

"He's driving Mary Maggie Mason's car, and she is your employee."

Vincent showed some annoyance. "I don't get involved with my employees' private lives. If Mary Maggie wants to loan Chooch a car, that's _her_ business."

"If she's hiding him it becomes _my_ business," Ranger said.

And we turned and left.

"So," Stephanie said when they got to the car, "that seemed to go well." He shot her a look and she smiled at him. Her hair was escaping, as usual, from her ponytail. Her bruise from the black eye was spreading and her lower lid was swollen. She was unselfconsciously putting herself on public display. She was an unusual woman. Tulia would have gone into hiding or checked in at an exclusive spa while her bruise faded, but here was Stephanie doing her job ignoring, for the most part, the stares that came her way. He smiled back at her.

"What's next?" she asked him.

"We're going to Benny and Ziggy's social club," he said. His comment earned him an eye roll, or as close as she could get to one. He smiled at her again.

They found the two men at the club as they'd expected, but left with no more information than they'd had to start with. Ranger had the impression they knew more than they were telling, but they didn't know where Dougie and Mooner were. They seemed as interested in finding Dougie and Mooner as Stephanie was.

"So that seemed to go almost as well as the interview with Vincent," she said to Ranger as they walked back toward the Mercedes.

Ranger gave her another smile. "Get in the car. We're visiting Mary Maggie next." He was enjoying himself, even if Stephanie wasn't. He knew she wasn't seeing the bigger picture.

They found Mary Maggie at home in her apartment. She listened attentively to Ranger as he told her of their concern for Eddie. She disavowed any knowledge of his whereabouts and seemed genuinely surprised and concerned for DeChooch when they told her of his accident with her white Cadillac. They left with her promise to call if she saw or heard from DeChooch.

"She's not going to call us," she said to Ranger when they were in the elevator.

Ranger just looked at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Patience."

The elevator doors opened to the underground garage and Stephanie stepped out ahead of Ranger. "Patience?" she asked him. "Mooner and Dougie are missing, and I've got Joyce Barnhardt breathing down my neck. We ride around and talk to people, but we don't learn anything and nothing happens and no one even seems to be worried."

"Joyce Barnhardt is like a fly you'll have to swat, Babe. Vinnie won't be giving her the paperwork, but he probably doesn't have the balls to tell her to back off the case. And we're not just talking to people. We're leaving messages. Applying pressure. You apply pressure in the right spot and things start to break down."

"Hmm," she said.

"Don't like the sound of that _hmm, _Babe."

"The pressure stuff sounds a little . . . obscure."

"Obscure," Ranger repeated.

He reached out and pulled her against him, his hands on her shoulders. He brought his mouth down with force on hers. No gentleness. His tongue found its way past her lips and he felt her body shudder against his. He let his hands slide down her back to caress her ass as he turned to lean her against the car. His hands slid even lower and he lifted her thighs up pressing his lower body against hers to hold her in place against the car, and he never broke the kiss. Steph's legs wrapped around his hips and he pushed himself even closer so there could be no doubt about the state of his arousal.

Then he pulled his mouth back. Her eyes were closed and he saw the purple bruise beneath her eye. He leaned forward and kissed the swollen area, his lips gentle. He tried to control his breathing, but it wanted to come in short gasps as if he'd just run a foot race, and he remembered he'd been trying to prove a point. He'd proved an old adage to himself he hadn't previously considered. If you played with fire, you could get burnt and he hoped to hell he didn't self-combust.

"Earth to Steph," he whispered softly in her ear.

"If we do it now does it count as a credit toward capturing DeChooch?" she asked. Her voice was husky, with a breathlessness that reignited his desire. He pulled his upper body away from her, but her legs, still wrapped tightly around him, kept them joined.

"We aren't doing it now."

"Why not?"

"We're in a parking garage. And by the time I get you out of the garage you'll have changed your mind."

She opened her eyes and looked at him through narrow slits. "So what's the point here?"

"The point is that you can break down a person's defense system if you apply the right pressure." Her legs unwound from his hips and hit the floor of the garage with simultaneous thuds.

"Are you telling me this was just a demonstration? You got me into this . . . this _state_ to prove a point?"

His hands were still at her waist, holding her against him. "How serious is this _state_?" he asked.

"It's not that serious," she told him. She wriggled away and slid into the car. He rounded the car and got in, but made no attempt to start the ignition. He didn't believe her comment. She looked seriously disheveled and her one good eye was heavy lidded with desire.

"Liar," he said.

"How serious is your _state_?" she asked.

"Frighteningly serious."

There was little conversation as he drove to their next stop. They visited Ronald DeChooch, Eddie's nephew and then made a stop at Dougie's neighbor's house. They gained no useful information from Ronald, but the neighbor had been helpful. Mrs. Belski had seen Eddie DeChooch several times, knocking on the door and looking for Dougie. She'd also seen older women; they'd had a key and they went into the apartment. This was new information.

Stephanie was quiet on their way back to the bonds office. She might have been thinking about the women they'd just learned about, but he didn't think so. He didn't think his demonstration had convinced her of the usefulness of his pressure techniques. Maybe her silence meant she was trying to avoid inciting another episode of physicality between them, and that was good, because he didn't know if he could back off again.

When they were stopped outside the bonds office she turned to him. "Thanks for the help, I appreciate it. I was wondering though, if while we are waiting for the pressure to work if there's something else we could try."

"Babe?"

"Dougie and Mooner have something people are looking for. I don't know what it is, but if I told people I had it, then maybe I could get DeChooch to come to me and then we could find Dougie and Mooner."

"You're willing to use yourself as bait?" Ranger asked her.

"Yes, and nothing against your plan to use pressure, but I think it will work quicker."

"It'll work," he told her, "because of the pressure. The people we talked to will believe you have what DeChooch is looking for, but it could be dangerous. Are you willing to put yourself in danger to get DeChooch."

She looked up at him and he could see tears threatening to spill. "Not because of DeChooch," she said, "because of Dougie and Mooner. I lost them and now I have to find them." She got out of the car and he watched her get into the CR-V and drive off.

He called Tank. "I want someone on Stephanie 24-7 until further notice, and it has to be a discreet tail. She doesn't need to know and neither does anyone else who might be watching her."

"Who do you want?" Tank asked.

Ranger was silent for a moment. "Bobby and Hector." His voice was decisive and Tank didn't question it. He knew Bobby had an allegiance to Stephanie that had formed sometime during the redecorating job and Hector had…he wasn't sure how to describe what Hector had, but if there was danger to Stephanie Hector would be decisive in his action to remove the danger.

"Will do," Tank told Ranger. "I'll put them on rotating twelve-hour shifts and give them combat pay. They'll earn it following her around."

"I don't care what you pay them. She's setting herself up as a target and there is the strong possibility there will be trouble." He would like to be the one on Stephanie detail, but he had work to do at RangeMan and he was going to lay low for a while and wait for her next call for help. He knew it would come, he just didn't know when.

When Ranger entered the control room the next day he saw Hector surrounded by Tank, Cal and Vince and they were laughing loudly. At their notice of his presence they dispersed and Tank ambled over to Ranger's side.

"What was that all about?" Ranger asked.

"Stephanie," Tank replied. Ranger stopped walking and turned toward Tank.

"What about Stephanie?"

"Hector just filed his report after his first twelve-hour shift. It'll be in your inbox."

"Don't make me wait," Ranger said. "What happened?"

"It was at the end of Hector's shift. She stayed with Morelli last night and this morning, early, she ran out the door with that big dog and hopped in Morelli's car. She drove to Joyce Barnhardt's house and let the dog out and he did a huge number on Joyce's lawn and then he barfed." Tank stopped talking for a moment to contain his laughter. "Then the dog got back in the car and they went home."

"And I'm paying good money for this…dog surveillance?" He went into his office and booted up his computer so he could read the official report of her morning activities.

The next Stephanie report came from Bobby, midafternoon. It wasn't the norm to call in a report in the middle of the shift, unless there was trouble. Ranger's calm "Yo," belied the sudden tightness in his gut.

"There was a car chase of some sort in an apartment parking garage down in city-center," Bobby told him. Mary Maggie's apartment, Ranger knew. "An old guy in a white Cadillac smashed into her car."

"Is she alright?"

"Yeah, the only injury was to Joyce Barnhart. She went to the hospital with a broken leg."

He was afraid to ask, but he knew he had to. "Did Stephanie run over her?"

"No," Bobby said and the wrinkles in Ranger's forehead smoothed out. "It was the guy in the Cadillac."

"Did she take him into custody?"

"Nah, he got away clean."

Ranger smiled and leaned back in his chair. Another near miss. His prospects were looking good. He realized Bobby was still talking and had to ask him to repeat himself.

"I said, do you want to give Bomber a car? Her's, maybe, isn't totaled, but it isn't drivable," Bobby repeated.

Fuck yes, he wanted to give her something to drive. An armored car, or realistically a Humvee, but he wouldn't voluntarily help her as long as the deal was on the table. All requests had to come from her. "No," he told Bobby. "I'll wait and see what she comes up with. She may want to drive her grandmother's Buick." Like Hell.

The end of the day brought with it a need for physical activity. Ranger headed to the gym and changed quickly into running shoes and shorts. He stretched extensively and programmed the treadmill for a slow warm-up before he reached his running speed and maximum incline. He wanted to be tired when he stepped off the machine, but he wanted all his muscles intact. He remembered well the disaster of running in the early morning with Stephanie.

He'd been running about twenty minutes when he was joined in the gym by Tank. It was obvious Tank was there to talk and not work out. He stood by the side of the treadmill and shouted to Ranger.

"Got a date tonight?"

Ranger ignored him.

"'Cause I don't," Tank continued. "You want to spend some quality time with me?"

Ranger turned and stared at Tank. With the incline high he was on eye level with Tank who stood on the floor. Tank continued. "I need Hector for a big installation tomorrow. He and Woody and a couple of the new hires are doing the new plastics plant in North Trenton. I'm pulling Hector off Stephanie duty and I'm taking it. I wondered if you'd want to sit with me for the first few hours."

"What time?"

"Seven, in the garage. Be on time or I'll have to pay Bobby overtime combat pay."


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit**

Chapter 21

They met Bobby a block down from Stephanie's apartment building. He stepped out of the nondescript beige Chevy Impala he'd been sitting in. "She's inside," he said. "Morelli's in there with her. And she's got transportation. She left the bonds office on a Harley-Davidson FXDL Dyna Low Rider, and she handled it like a pro. The way she had her thighs wrapped around…" Bobby looked up and saw dark brows pulled together and an electrically intense gaze peering out from under them. "…It's in the lot, the bike, I mean." He quickly finished his report and hopped into the SUV Tank had parked behind the Impala. The men got in the Chevy and officially began their shift.

The parking spot was a good one because they could see the back of Steph's apartment as well as the lot. She rarely used the front entrance, but they still had a partial view of the front of the building. Stephanie's bedroom faced the back of the building, and there were no lights on. Ranger knew Tank had noticed, but he was damned if he was going to comment on it. It was one thing to know she was with Morelli, but it was another thing to know she was with him now, a few hundred yards away. As he stared at the darkened window the light came on. They were in there all right.

Tank was behind the driver's seat and he shifted slightly to look at Ranger. Ranger remained still. "He's not seeing anyone but her," Tank said.

"And that's important to me why?" Ranger's voice was calm, matter of fact, but Tank saw the lines of tension at the corner of his mouth. Before Tank could respond, both men focused on the door to the parking lot. It was flung open by a strong push from inside and Morelli loped out of the building and over to his truck at the edge of the lot. He was in the truck and out on the street in a matter of seconds. It was almost dark, but Ranger and Tank were visible in the Chevy and they made no attempt to hide as Morelli zoomed by them without a second glance.

"He was in a hurry," Tank said. "Must be some trouble in Trenton." Both men settled into a comfortable silence that lasted for a half-hour. There had been many other nights where they'd sat unmoving and silent for hours and it was looking like this was going to be one of those nights. It was full on dark and the night loomed endlessly in front of them. Ranger wondered what the hell he was doing. He paid men to do this shit; he should be at home. He verbalized nothing.

The rumble of eight gas-sucking cylinders caught their attention. The big blue Buick cruised by and turned into Stephanie's lot. A small slight-built man got out, leaving the car running and the hi-beams on.

"There's a man going in," Tank said.

"I don't think so," Ranger replied. "Look close. I think it's a woman dressed like a man. I think it's Stephanie's sister, Valerie."

"Why is she dressed like a man?" Tank asked. "She a lesbian?"

"I don't know why she's dressed like a man. I think she's straight. She's got two kids and an ex-husband."

"Hunh, maybe that's why he's an ex-husband. Oh shit!" Tank and Ranger leaned forward in unison. Between the parking lot lights and the high-beams of the Buick they had almost daytime vision. Valerie was out of the building walking toward the driver's side of the car and Stephanie was behind her.

"Oh shit," Ranger echoed. "We've got trouble." Stephanie was standing next to the passenger side door. Her hair was swinging around her face in a halo of giant curls and her red lips gleamed in the halogen light of the lot. He couldn't see the black eye, either due to concealer or the fact that his eyes were tracing the path of her bare legs from where they exited her skirt, just inches below her ass, to where her feet were contained in five-inch stiletto heels. The skirt looked like black leather and it matched the short jacket she had on over a black knit shirt.

Stephanie got in the Buick and they pulled out of the lot. Tank fired up the ignition and the Impala pulled into traffic, never getting close enough to be made, but staying just the right distance to keep the tail. They followed the Buick down Brunswick Avenue and across the railroad tracks.

"Where the hell are they going?" Tank muttered as the Impala with its well-worn shocks bounced over the tracks. When the Buick slowed down and turned into a residential neighborhood, Ranger knew. The Buick stopped at the curb and Lula, dressed in tight spandex and high heels, hopped into the backseat.

"Stephanie is using herself as bait to draw out DeChooch," Ranger told Tank. "I'm thinking they're on their way to the Snake Pit."

"That's trouble then," Tank said.

"Yeah, can you get us there first?"

"You want me to stop the tail and beat them there?" Tank questioned. "What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not," he replied pulling a Blackberry from his pocket. "And if I am, Stephanie's still got a functioning tracker in her purse."

Tank turned the big car around and took back streets even Ranger didn't know about. By the time the three women were in the club and seated, their surveillance team was hidden away in a closet behind the bar. They had a good view of the women, the door and the mud-wrestling ring. It had cost a couple of crisp hundreds, but it was worth it because the view of the bar was excellent and so was their cover.

When the mud fight started Ranger wanted to rescue Stephanie, but he stayed still. He'd have to wait for the right moment. She lost her blouse almost immediately, but as long as she kept her bra on he thought she'd be okay. When Lula jumped into the ring to help her he actually relaxed a little, because she was kicking ass. She'd managed to throw Mary Maggie out of the ring. The crowd was going wild, and then, disaster. Other wrestlers joined the group and in the middle of the brawl Stephanie managed to rip a g-string off one woman. There was a strict law against total nudity. The bouncers stepped in and Lula and Stephanie were on the street in no time, one shoeless and the other shirtless.

They followed the Buick back to Lula's where she made her way into her apartment. The Buick took off again and they followed it to Morelli's. Tank cut the engine and coasted to the curb three houses up. The Buick sat in front of Morelli's for a moment. Stephanie must have called him because the porch light flipped on and Stephanie exited the car, still shirtless.

Morelli held the door open for her and stepped way back, allowing her to enter without touching him.

"Looks like Morelli's gonna let a little mud keep him from his woman tonight," Tank said.

"I wouldn't." The words were uttered so softly Tank wasn't sure Ranger knew he'd said them out loud.

"Let's go home," Ranger said in a normal tone. "I'm not sitting here all night when she's with Morelli. He'll watch out for her. Bobby can take over in the morning." Tank started the car and they drove back to RangeMan in silence.

Ranger didn't alter his plan. He waited for her call. He read the surveillance reports on Stephanie daily, and was amazed at her eccentric work style, but not her results. She was like a ping pong ball, bouncing from place to place, with no organized logic in her information gathering techniques, and yet she was successful. He thought she was making progress in her effort to find Dougie and Mooner, if not her effort to capture Eddie DeChooch. He waited patiently. He knew she would need help again, and he'd be there for her.

When the call came, it was not what he'd expected. She'd left him a voice mail and he heard something in her voice that made him return the call immediately. She didn't bother with a greeting, just launched into speech.

"There's a new problem with the DeChooch thing. He's got Grandma."

"A match made in heaven," Ranger said.

"This is serious! I let it be known that I had what DeChooch was after. Since he doesn't have Mooner he's kidnapped Grandma so he has something to trade. The swap is set for seven."

"What are you planning on giving DeChooch?"

"A pig heart."

"That sounds fair," Ranger said.

"It's a long story."

"What can I do for you?"

"I could use backup in case something goes wrong." Then she told him the plan.

"Have Vinnie wire you," Ranger said. "I'll stop by the office later this afternoon to get the receiver. Switch the wire on at six-thirty."

"Is the price the same?"

"This is a freebie. I like your granny." He listened to her plan and made no changes. He was doing only what she asked.

Ranger didn't think it was a good idea to take a cooler containing a pig heart to the mall, but it wasn't his plan. He listened to one wrong turn after another until the op was screwed up beyond repair. He was waiting for Stephanie and Lula in the mall parking lot, next to her bike, when they finally gave up on the exchange. He saw them exit the mall and make their way toward him, Stephanie still tightly hanging on to the cooler containing the ransom.

"If I ever need to be ransomed, do me a favor and decline the job," he said as they stood in front of him. He reached under her shirt and turned the wire off. "Don't worry. He'll call back. How could he refuse a pig heart?" Ranger looked inside the chest and smiled. "It's really a pig heart."

"It's supposed to be Louie D's heart," she told him. "DeChooch removed it by mistake. And then somehow DeChooch managed to lose the heart while en route back to Richmond." He knew the details, but he didn't share that with her. The surveillance he'd placed on her had been well-timed and both Bobby and Hector's reports had been extensive and quickly filed.

"And you were going to pawn a pig heart off on him," Ranger said.

"It was short notice," Lula said. "We tried to get a regular one, but they were special order."

"Nice bike," Ranger said to her. "Suits you."

And then he was in his car and gone.

The second attempt at retrieving Stephanie's grandma was successful. Ranger delivered Edna, none the worse for her experience, to Stephanie's parents' house. Stephanie was standing in her front yard waiting for their arrival. Ranger got out of his car and rounded it to open Edna's door. When Edna was on the sidewalk Stephanie embraced her in a quick wordless hug and then turned to Ranger.

"Are you coming in with me?"

"You'd have to kill me first."

"I need to talk to you. This won't take long. Will you wait for me?"

Their eyes held and the silence stretched between them.

He nodded. He'd wait.

She turned to go into the house and he reached out and pulled her back. His hands slid under her shirt.

"The wire," he said, removing the tape, his fingertips warm against her skin. They moved of their own accord, skimming the swell of breast not covered by her bra.

She turned and ran up the sidewalk catching up with her granny who was entering the house. It took ten minutes before she could make her escape. Ranger was leaning against the side of his car, arms folded, when she came down the sidewalk and stopped in front of him.

"Ronald is probably going to take the heart to Richmond tomorrow," she said to Ranger. "And I'm worried they'll discover it doesn't belong to Louie D."

"And?"

"And I'm afraid they might want to send a message by doing something terrible to Mooner or Dougie."

"And?"

"And I think Mooner and Dougie are in Richmond. I think Louie D's wife and sister are secretly working together. And I think they have Mooner and Dougie."

"And you'd like to rescue them."

"Yes."

Ranger smiled. "Might be fun."

In the end, it wasn't fun. They left from her parents' house. Ranger made a quick call to Tank telling him of the trip and asking him to take care of Stephanie's bike. He didn't say anything specific, as Stephanie was listening to everything he said, but he knew Tank understood the surveillance on Stephanie was over and that'd he'd be offline for at least the night and the next day.

He was still careful about the personal information he shared with Stephanie and he refused to take a deeper look at his reasons for that. He shot a look at her. She was sitting quietly in the seat next to him. They had a five hour drive to Richmond and Stephanie looked wrung out from the day. She was reclined in her seat, but not sleeping. He reached out and pushed a button on the CD player and strains of Tchaikovsky's 5th Symphony filled the car. It was his go to music for road trips. He looked sideways at Stephanie assessing her reaction. He knew the music was not to her taste, but she smiled at him and he turned his attention back to the drive.

She was silent for a few minutes and then she said, "You don't by any chance have a twin brother, do you?"

"No," he said softly. "There's only one of me."

"Ranger," she hesitated and then took a deep breath and went on. "Thank you for helping me with my Grandma. DeChooch said I couldn't bring in the police, so I didn't tell Joe until after things got screwed up at the mall. I was afraid DeChooch would hurt Grandma if Joe was involved."

"So, you're telling me I was your second choice?" he asked.

"No," she said emphatically, "I'm telling you…I'm telling you thanks, for always helping me. Joe and I are…" she fell silent again for a few moments.

"I have a wedding dress," she said in a rush. "My mother bought it, but Joe and I aren't engaged. We aren't even…"

"Be careful what you tell me, Babe. I'm not the enemy, but there are things you may not want me to know."

She looked at him for a long time. His eyes were on the road ahead, but he could feel her slow perusal of him and his body reacted. He waited long minutes before he turned to take a quick look at her and was relieved to find she'd closed her eyes. Sleep, Babe, he thought, there's still a lot of night ahead of us.

She did sleep. He made the rest of the trip in silence except for the quick call to Tank. They'd need motel reservations and he put Tank in charge. She awoke as he pulled the car to a stop in front of what his GPS told him was Louie D's house.

"Are we here?" she asked him groggily.

"Yes, and I'm going to take a look. Stay in the car."

It didn't take long to make his assessment. He returned to the car and was pleased to see she'd followed his instructions and stayed put. It was unusual behavior for her, and he realized, despite her sleep on the way down, she was tired.

"The place is secure. Locked up tight and alarmed. I could get in, but I'd like a little Intel before I try that. I had Tank get us rooms. You can have a couple hours to sleep and get freshened up. My suggestion is to knock on Mrs. D's door at nine and finesse ourselves into the house."

"Works for me."

They had side-by-side rooms in a comfortable two-story chain motel. Ranger opened her door and made a quick inspection.

"I'll be next door if you need anything," he said. "I'll come for you at eight-thirty. We can get breakfast and then say hello to the ladies."

"I'll be ready."

He pulled her toward him, lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was slow and deep. His hands were firm on her back. She grasped his shirt and leaned into him. His body responded, and he knew she felt it.

"Shit!" she said.

"That's not the usual reaction I get when I kiss a woman," Ranger said.

"Okay, here's the truth. I'd really like to sleep with you, but I have this stupid wedding gown . . ."

Ranger's lips swept along her jawline to her ear. His words were soft and seductive. "I could make you forget the gown."

"You could. But that would create really terrible problems."

"You have a moral dilemma."

"Yes."

He kissed her again. Lightly this time. He stepped back and smiled at her, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. They were somber. "I don't want to put any pressure on you and your moral dilemma, but you better hope you can bring Eddie DeChooch in all by yourself because if I help you I'll collect my fee."

And then he left. He closed the door behind him, and waited to hear her slide the lock. He cursed Tank for reserving two rooms.

Eighteen long hours later, Ranger was back in his car, this time in the passenger seat. Dougie and Mooner were in the backseat, quiet. They'd been held hostage by Louie D's wife in the basement of her house, and they were glad to be on their way home. His arm hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, but he gave no indication. To some extent he welcomed the pain, because it kept his mind off of Stephanie.

It had been touch and go at the police station. He had been able to tell the story in a way that kept RangeMan out of it, and they'd used Stephanie's capture papers for DeChooch to lead the police to believe he'd been their objective. Finding Dougie and Mooner was just a fortunate side benefit.

Again his attention turned to the professionally dressed wound on his forearm. It was throbbing with a strong and painful intensity considering the superficiality of the wound. This was the second bullet he'd taken because of Stephanie. He couldn't say he'd taken them _for_ her as both times the shooter was aiming straight at him. Both times he'd had his mind on her safety, and it had diminished his focus on the job at hand. And it had cost him. He needed to define his feelings for her and then slot them away. He thought he'd be successful with his deal. It was just a matter of time until she made her decision and called for him to bring DeChooch in. When that happened the game was on.

It was several days after he returned to Trenton before he talked to her again, but Tank continued to file reports. Sophia was still on the loose and it bothered him, so he reinstated the surveillance on Stephanie. Tank was in charge of the roster and he was the one giving reports. It was a closely guarded secret, but a highly amusing one that Vinnie and Stephanie had had a shoot-out with DeChooch inside Pin Wheel Soba's empty house. The house was destroyed and DeChooch got away, and according to the report, the cop was livid.

When the call came it was almost midnight. Ranger was in bed and deeply asleep, but the ringing of his phone brought him to immediate alertness. He should have been expecting what he heard, but still it took him by surprise.

"I need help," she said. "But it's a little strange."

"It always is."

"I'm here with Eddie DeChooch, and he doesn't want to be brought in by a girl."

Ranger began to laugh softly in a rare sound of real enjoyment.

"It's not funny," I said.

"It's perfect."

"Are you going to help me out here, or what?"

"Where are you?"

"My apartment."

Twenty minutes later, Ranger was at her door. He was dressed in black fatigues, with a full utility belt. If DeChooch didn't want to be brought in by a girl, he was going to give him the full RangeMan treatment. He glanced at Stephanie and did a double take before a slow grin split his face. She had on slim black jeans and a form-fitting red sweater, and her hair was a wild blond cloud around her head.

"Blond?"

"It was one of those impulse things."

"Any other surprises?" It was just a conversational gambit, but he saw her eyes widen and he knew he'd struck a cord. There was something else.

"Nothing I want to tell you about right now," she said firmly.

He walked farther into the apartment and raised an eyebrow at DeChooch when he saw the man was missing part of his ear and had blood dripping from the wound.

"I didn't do it," she said.

"How bad is it?"

"I'll live," DeChooch said, "but it hurts like hell."

He left her apartment and with Tank's help took Eddie to the hospital and then called the police. It was one-thirty before he was able to make his way back to Stephanie's apartment. He made short work of the lock and closed the door quietly behind him. He walked confidently through the dark apartment to her bedroom. He stood leaning against the door jamb listening to her breathing and he decided she wasn't sleeping. He knocked on the jamb.

"Are you awake?"

"I am now. You scared the hell out of me."

"I want to see you," he said. "Do you have a night-light?"

"In the bathroom."

He got the light from the bathroom and plugged it into a baseboard outlet. It didn't give off much light, but it was enough for him to see clearly.

"What's going on? Is DeChooch okay?" she asked.

Ranger removed his gun belt and dropped it on the floor. "DeChooch is fine, but _we_ have unfinished business."

"This is sort of sudden," she said. "I mean, I didn't think it would be tonight. I didn't even know if it would be _any_ night. I wasn't sure you were serious. Not that I'd go back on a deal, but, um, what I'm trying to say is . . ."

Ranger raised an eyebrow. "I make you nervous?"

"Yes."

He sat in the rocker in the corner. He slouched slightly, elbows on the arms of the chair, fingers steepled against each other. He remembered the day they met. She'd eaten her dessert first. Not the entire piece of cake, just one bite. He wasn't like her. His dessert, when he ate it, was at the end of the meal, when everything else was done and he could take his time and savor it. He walked over to the bed.

"I'm going to give you your one bite of cake," he said.

She looked up at him, puzzled. Her blond hair was a soft cloud around her shoulders. She looked different than he was used to and he thought taking a taste was a good idea, if only to reassure himself it was really her. She nervously licked her lips and the urge to feel them moving under his mouth was uncontrollable. He bent over her and placed his lips on hers, lightly at first. He tasted and nibbled, and used his tongue to trace the outline of her mouth and then he plunged. There was no other contact between them. Her hands were under the covers pulling them tightly under her chin. His were on either side of the pale hair spread chaotically over her pillowcase. When he pulled back he saw the desire, and something else in her eyes. Maybe fear. She would have to lose that fear. There was no place for any distrust between them.

"You can relax. I'm not here to collect on the deal."

She blinked. "You're not? Then why did you drop your gun belt?"

"I'm tired. I wanted to sit and the belt is uncomfortable."

"Oh."

He smiled. "Disappointed?"

"No."

The smile widened.

"So, what's the unfinished business?" she asked.

"You're going to spend the night with me. I won't force the issue, but don't think it won't happen. One night, Babe. If you don't come to me, I'll come to you. And I won't take no for an answer."

He saw her bristle in the dim light. She didn't like being told what to do, he knew from experience and she didn't take direction well.

"Well, really. I don't go back on my word, Ranger. But you can hardly make me…"

"Goodnight, Babe," he interrupted. He stood and picked up his utility belt and walked from her apartment. His smile was wide.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 22

Ranger stayed away from Stephanie for the week after DeChooch's capture. There was legitimate RangeMan business and he had little free time. He'd been thinking about Stephanie's attitude, regarding their deal. One of the first things that had attracted him to her was her acceptance of his appearance, which at the time was purposefully intimidating. If that side of him didn't frighten her away he didn't know why the idea of sleeping with him would, but she was acting fearful.

And then a different type of work intervened, which he hoped would give Stephanie more time to get used to the terms of their deal. He'd been gone three weeks and this time he hadn't bothered to tell anyone, except Tank. The call had come late at night and they wanted him early the next morning. He simply made his preparations and left. It wasn't dangerous, as these types of ops went. He had specific skills and instructions on how to use them.

He'd been back stateside for three days and he'd been debriefed. All that was left was for him to write a summary and critique the op. This was the time when he could express his concerns about the way things had gone down, and make suggestions that might improve the next guy's chances. In this instance he had no criticism. Things had gone smoothly from the beginning to the end, but he still had to summarize. He looked around his office for a moment and made the decision to go back to his apartment where he could get the report done in peace and privacy.

As he entered his apartment he saw a laundry basket sitting in the foyer. Ella was not expecting him back so soon and she was in the middle of her daily cleaning. He looked in the kitchen and didn't see her, so he walked into his bedroom. The sight before him made him smile. Ella had taken to wearing the RangeMan uniform, or at least her version of it. She was his mother's cousin, and her confidant, and she was as different from his mother as Ranger could imagine. She was petite, but softly rounded. Her hair, unlike his mother's, was still jet black and worn in a short no-nonsense cut. And right now he was looking at her plump little bottom pointing in his direction. Her upper body was hidden under his bed.

"Ella?"

"Oh, Ranger." Her voice was muffled as she slowly backed out from under his bed. She rested on all fours and turned her face up to him. "I brought Shadow up here with me and now he won't come out from under your bed. I'm finished here, but I've been trying to coax him out for five minutes. He's out of my reach."

Shadow. The cat. "Leave him," he said. "I'll be working from the apartment today. He'll come out eventually and when he does I'll bring him down to you."

"If you're sure," she said, "then I will go. I need to get your laundry started and I have baking to do today."

He nodded and she gave him a quick smile before she moved out of the room. She picked up the laundry basket and let herself out of the apartment and Ranger went to his office to pick up his laptop. He settled into an armchair in the living room and thought about his recent trip.

He had bad feelings about Colombia, although this trip hadn't been anything like the last. He'd buried that memory so deep he rarely thought about it, but this trip had brought the memories back for him…and for Tank. He'd seen it on Tank's face when he told him where he was going. The last time they'd gone in amidst public fanfare. U.S. Army Rangers training the Colombian Army in basic protection techniques. At least that had been the press release. He and Tank had a different job. One that never made the paper, and almost killed them before they were finally successful.

This time his mission was to steal information from the Colombian Ministry of Agriculture. Something sensitive that could be an embarrassment to the U.S. government, but not something top-secret. They told him it might take a while, that he would have to be patient, and they were right. He sat and watched for over two weeks and when the time was right he slipped in and out in a matter of minutes, with the jump drive hidden securely on his person. The more than two weeks of waiting had given him time to think, and more often than not his thoughts had been of Stephanie.

He'd arrived back at RangeMan in the middle of the night. He'd alerted no one of his arrival and yet, when he booted up the computer in his office, he found the report of RangeMan activities logged day-by-day with a list of things he needed to attend to. He didn't know how Tank did it. The man was easily as capable of running RangeMan as he was, but he was content to take command only when Ranger was absent. And there was the ever present file on Stephanie. Again he didn't know how Tank did it, or why, but he was up to date on every aspect of her life. He read the files and emailed Tank to tell him of his plan to be offline the next day.

He'd planned, on his first day back, to see Stephanie and then take a drive out to his parents' house, both of which he'd accomplished, but not in the fashion he'd intended. Before he could find Stephanie, she'd contacted him. The tracker he'd slipped into her purse months ago was active and working, so when she called and asked him to call back he decided to surprise her. He usedthe GPS to lacate her car and parked behind her. He thought she wouldn't be too far from the car, and he saw her almost immediately.

It was the first time he'd seen her since the night of DeChooch's capture and she looked good. Her hair was its normal brown again. The blond shade had been okay, but he was glad to see her brown curls back. According to Tank's report she was in deep, maybe over her head. Eddie Abruzzi was a certifiably crazy person and she'd caught his eye.

He watched as she lifted a t-shirt out of the trunk of a car at the end of the block and had a brief conversation with the owner. She flipped the guy a couple of bucks and began walking back toward her car. Even at a distance he could see the food stuck to her and as she came closer he recognized it as pepperoni. He broke into a wide smile as she looked up and saw him.

"Looks like you've been shopping," he said.

She tossed the shirt into the CR-V. She didn't smile and her eyes met his only for a second before darting away. No "Hello, how've you been. Nice to see you, when are we going to spend the night together?" She was nervous. When she looked up again her words were to the point. "I need some help."

"Again?"

"Do you know about child custody bonds?" she asked him.

He inclined his head a fraction of an inch. "Yes."

"I'm looking for a mother and a little girl."

"How old is the little girl?"

"Seven."

"From the Burg?"

"Yes."

"It's difficult to hide a seven-year-old," Ranger said. "They peek out windows and stand in open doorways. If the child is in the Burg, word will get around. The Burg isn't good at keeping a secret."

"I haven't heard anything. I have no leads. I have Connie running a computer check, but I won't get that back for a day or two."

"Give me whatever information you have, and I'll ask around."

She grimaced. "Do you know Eddie Abruzzi?"

"Abruzzi's not a nice guy. You want to stay away from Abruzzi," Ranger said. He reached out and picked a piece of cheese-encrusted pepperoni off the slope of her breast. His fingers brushed potato chip crumbs off her shoulder. He didn't ask what had happened, because he knew it would be a variation of what always happened. The skip threw food at her and then he got away. It had been weeks since he'd touched her and his intent had been to casually brush food off her. He had to fight the desire to let his fingers linger. She wasn't unmoved by his touch either, he could tell.

"Stop fondling me," she said.

"Maybe you should get used to it, considering what you owe me."

"I'm trying to have a conversation here! The missing mother is renting a house owned by Abruzzi. I sort of ran into him this morning. He's crazy."

"That's the general consensus. Anything else?" Ranger asked.

"Nope. That's about it."

Ranger angled into his car and drove away. He saw in his rearview mirror that she stood and stared in his direction until he was out of sight. Not quite the reaction he'd expected after not seeing one another for several weeks. The casual ease of their past conversations was missing. He always enjoyed their wordplay and now it was as if she had to force herself to talk to him. She was on edge. It could be Abruzzi, or Morelli for that matter. The reports told him they weren't together so maybe he was giving her some trouble. He wondered if she was having second thoughts about the deal. That would be too bad, because she'd made the deal fully informed and she would be keeping her word.

He arrived unannounced at his parents' house to find his mother alone and in the mood to talk. He spent most of the afternoon trying to placate her for leaving on an op without first calling. And when there was a pause in the conversation his mother filled it with questions about Stephanie. Still he enjoyed the time spent with his mother talking, laughing and catching up on family news.

Ranger pulled his attention back to the present and opened his lap top to write the report. Stephanie and his inquisitive mother were sIotted away for later consideration. He focused and finished the report as quickly as he could. It was his least favorite part of the work he did for the government. He was home, had been debriefed and was ready to move forward, so the sense of release as he closed his computer was great. The weight was gone. He'd completed his last duty and once again his life was his own. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and looked toward his bedroom.

The cat was prancing toward him carrying a rubber mouse in his mouth. Ranger watched while Shadow dropped the mouse and batted at it and then pounced on the rubber toy. Shadow was totally immersed in his play and Ranger focused on the cat with a similar intensity. It was typical cat behavior. The behavior of a dominant subject over its captive, deriving joy from letting the victim go, only to capture it again. He'd seen the same behavior in men and he let his mind wander briefly to Colombia and the incarceration and torture he and Tank had suffered at the hands of their captors.

He set the laptop down on the table and walked purposefully toward Shadow. He bent and swooped up the cat, who had the rubber mouse dangling from his mouth and made his way out of the apartment. Ella opened the door of her apartment in response to his sharp rap. Ranger gave her a small smile and wordlessly handed Shadow over to her. There was RangeMan work to be done, so he made his way to five.

He went to his office and called Tank who was obviously alerted by caller ID. He answered his phone on the first ring.

"You ready to get your butt back in the saddle? Cause I'm ready to hand you the reins and take a couple of days off."

"Yes, I'm back and ready to go, but I need some Intel. I met with Stephanie yesterday and I was glad of your report, but I need to know what Eddie Abruzzi's interest in her is."

"Meet me at Shorty's for lunch," Tank told him. "I think I can bring you up to speed."

Ranger walked into Shorty's and looked at the usual booth. Tank was sitting in Ranger's favorite spot with his back to the wall, his girth filling up half the booth space, and squeezed in next to him looking her usual all-business self was Jeanne Ellen Burrows. Tank knew he wanted Intel so he assumed Jeanne Ellen was there for a reason.

Ranger slid in across from them and Tank wasted no time. "We ordered for you," he said. "Jeanne Ellen is on a tight schedule and I thought you'd want to hear what she had to say." As if the waitress had heard Tank speak she appeared at the table with frosted mugs of draft beer and a large pan of deep-dish pizza. Ranger eyed the pie covered with melted cheese and raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Tank asked. "We ordered veggie for you."

"Plum and I have both been hired to find the same woman," Jeanne Ellen said before Ranger could respond to Tank. "Evelyn Soder. She's FTA and Les wrote the bond. Your friend was hired by Evelyn's grandmother, because if we don't get Evelyn back the grandmother will be out on the street."

Ranger cringed, mentally. He wouldn't give Jeanne Ellen the satisfaction of seeing his displeasure at the news Stephanie and Jeanne Ellen were working to find the same woman.

"I don't care if she's nosing around," she continued, "but she better stay out of my way. And she should be careful who she pisses off. Abruzzi has an unusual interest in Evelyn, beyond what is normal for a landlord, and he seems pretty interested in Stephanie Plum. I asked her if she wanted to share information. She declined." Ranger hid his smile.

"If she gets in my way," Jeanne Ellen continued, "I'll take her out of the investigation."

"Is that a threat?" Ranger asked.

"Not in the sense that I'd do harm to her," Jeanne Ellen said. "I'll try to keep her from harm. This is an important case. A lot of people are watching to see what happens with child custody bonds when the parent is FTA and I don't need the complication of somebody fumbling around fouling up my investigation."

"What if Stephanie finds Evelyn first?" Ranger asked. Something about Jeanne Ellen's attitude was rubbing him the wrong way. "Her acquisition percentage is high. She brings in the majority of people she goes after."

"If that happens," Jeanne Ellen said, "I'll take Evelyn from her. I'm the one with the papers to bring Evelyn in. One more thing." She stopped talking long enough to pop the last bit of crust from her slice of pizza into her mouth. She chewed slowly enjoying the fact she had both men's attention on her, if only because they were waiting to hear what she had to say. "Did you know that Eddie Abruzzi owned the controlling interest in Benito Ramirez…the boxer who was killed at Plum's apartment?"

"That's new information to me," Tank said. "And it's not welcome information, because Abruzzi is crazy. Crazy enough that he could possibly blame Stephanie for the loss on his investment."

"Well, I'll leave you gentlemen to your pizza," Jeanne Ellen said. "I've got an FTA to catch."

She slid out of the booth and walked toward the door totally aware of the looks she was receiving from the other patrons. Ranger looked at her ass in the tightfitting black jumpsuit and wondered,_ what was I thinking?_

The men were quiet for a moment and then Tank casually picked up his beer. "How was Colombia?"

"Better than last time," Ranger said. They were, again, silent for a moment both remembering the last time and pushing it back into the appropriate corner of their minds. "What the hell's going on between you and Jeanne Ellen?" Ranger asked. "I thought you were dating my sister."

"Ana is very important to me and she has no place in this discussion," Tank said. "Jeanne Ellen and I have a good working relationship, like the one you used to have with her before you screwed her. There's nothing between us but work." A big smile split Tank's face. "Besides, Jeanne Ellen has… a boyfriend…and he works for RangeMan."

"Fucked," Ranger said. "We fucked and if anyone got screwed, it was me." He was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Lester?"

"Yep. And I have no idea what goes on between them, but Lester smiles a lot these days," Tank said. "And the other day when he was on monitor duty he just started laughing right out loud." Tank's expression sobered. "What Jeanne Ellen told us is potentially very serious. You want surveillance back on Stephanie? Eddie Abruzzi is one scary motherfucker."

"Let me talk to her first," Ranger said. "I'm not sure if Stephanie realizes how much trouble she could be in. What's her situation with Morelli? Maybe he's providing some security for her."

"Word on the street is she and Morelli are through. He hasn't been scratching around Jeanne Ellen or Lester would've told me, and Terry Gilman seems to be MIA these days. I'm not sure what's going on, but Morelli and Stephanie are spending a lot of time alone, separately."

Ranger didn't wonder how Tank knew, but he didn't doubt the accuracy of the information. He needed to talk to Stephanie, soon. He turned his mind to RangeMan business.

"You said you wanted time off," he said to Tank. "Bring me up to speed and then take as much time off as you need. I haven't been pulling my weight, but you have so I think you're due a little time to yourself."

"If you read the reports," Tank said, "then you know everything important. How much longer do you plan to do this shit? Does RangeMan still need the revenue so badly you have to risk your life for it?"

"I'm not done yet," Ranger said. "I'll know when it's time, and this time there was no risk to my life, but if I'd been caught I can tell you for certain, it would've been my last. All I can say is I was trying to save the government from embarrassment, and I was successful. What are you going to do with your time off? Hang out around here, or maybe go home and see your Momma?"

"Ana is taking me to Paris. To the Louvre."

Ranger nodded his head once to indicate he'd heard and then took a bite of pizza. He was speechless.

They were almost done with the pizza when they looked up to see Carl Costanza, beer mug in hand, walking across the floor toward them. He was out of uniform and judging by his gait it wasn't his first beer.

"We need to talk," he said to Ranger. Ranger nodded and Constanza slid in next to him. "It's my day off and I'm glad I ran into you. I was maybe gonna call you. Stephanie is in some deep shit and I don't think she knows."

"Does this have to do with Abruzzi?" Ranger asked.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it does," Constanza said. "We got a call from Stephanie. She said someone left a bag of snakes in her apartment. Animal Control had to come out. They turned out to be non-venomous, but they were all over the place. There was an anonymous note that asked if she liked the snakes. It's got Abruzzi written all over it. It's his kind of intimidation. Just thought you should know." Costanza got up and shuffled away and Tank said, "I'll take care of assigning that security detail to Stephanie before I take my days off."

"Make it discreet," Ranger replied. "No sense warning Abruzzi."

The next morning Ranger was at his desk when his caller ID showed Plum Bail Bonds was calling. It was Connie.

"Can you stop by sometime today?" she asked. "Vinnie's got an FTA for you. Potential fifty grand payday."

"I'll be there later this morning," he told her. He disconnected to hear his phone ring again.

It was Binkie. "Boss, can you come to the garage? There's a delivery for you. I think you have to sign for it."

Ranger smiled. "I'll be right there." There'd been an empty space in his garage since the Boxster. He'd decided to remedy that situation, this time with a Carrera. He left his desk and took the stairs to the garage. He'd take delivery, and then take a test drive before he stopped at the bonds office to see what Vinnie had for him.

He was standing in front of Connie's desk when Stephanie walked in. She made no eye contact with him and spoke briefly with Connie about an address she needed. Ranger didn't know if she was avoiding him because of the crowd of Connie, Lula and Vinnie all watching her, or if she was avoiding him because of their deal. She concluded her business with Connie and then announced, "Gotta run. Things to do." She left the building and stood outside under the awning.

Ranger followed her out and they stood together under the awning, watching the rain fall in something less than a downpour, but hard enough she was hesitant to venture out into it.

He reached out and put a restraining hand on her arm, because he thought she might run rather than have a conversation with him. She was jumpy, whether from the trauma of the snakes or something between them he wasn't sure.

"It might be good to keep more than one bullet in your gun, Babe."

"You heard about the snakes?"

"I ran into Costanza. He was looking at life through the bottom of a beer glass."

"I'm not having much luck finding Annie Soder."

"You're not the only one."

"Jeanne Ellen can't find her, either?"

"Not yet."

Their eyes held for a moment. "Which team are you on?" she asked.

He tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingertips brushing feather light across her temple, his thumb at the line of her jaw. "I have my own team."

"Tell me about Jeanne Ellen."

Ranger smiled. "The information would have a price."

"And the price would be what?"

"You know the price, Babe. I've been waiting for you to tell me the time was right, but if it doesn't happen soon, I'll take the initiative away from you."

His smile widened as a thought occurred to him. Maybe Jeanne Ellen was the cause for her mood. Maybe she was jealous. "Try not to get too wet today," he said. And he was gone.

Ranger was in the office early the next morning. It was Saturday, but he had plenty to keep him busy. He and Tank were going to have to make a trip to RangeMan Atlanta and soon, but he wouldn't go until Eddie Abruzzi lost interest in Stephanie, one way or the other. It was still early and the only other staff on duty was a skeleton monitoring crew. He saw a shadow cross his desk and looked up to see Tank standing in front of him.

"I've got an errand to do and then I'll be out of town for three days," Tank told him. "I thought you might be interested in hearing about my errand."

Ranger looked up to see Tank grinning widely. "A personal errand?" Ranger asked, thinking it must have something to do with Ana.

"Of a sort," Tank replied. "You remember you had a tracker put on Stephanie's CR-V?"

"Yes," Ranger tensed.

"Vince was on monitors last night and he reconciled the location of Steph's CR-V to a recently relocated chop shop. It was a good pick up on his part. He called Lester and Bobby and they went and boosted the car right out of the warehouse. It was still in one piece, but there was a big chain attached to the bumper. Not sure what that's about. I authorized the overtime for Lester and Bobby, but they had so much fun re-stealing the car from the shop they'd have probably done it for free. I'm going to deliver it to her before I leave town."

Ranger sighed and nodded. The entertainment budget was proving to be a good idea. "Who's on Stephanie this weekend?" Ranger asked.

"The roster should be in your inbox," Tank told him. "I sent it to you."

"Okay, thanks. And Tank…have a nice trip." Tank smiled in a way that made Ranger a little uncomfortable and saluted Ranger before he walked out of the office.

Ranger opened his inbox and found the roster. He made a snap decision. He would take the Stephanie duty this weekend. He'd keep his distance until the time was right and then he'd give her the opportunity to fulfill her part of the deal.

When his phone rang a few hours later he knew what she was calling about. He'd been following her all day, and he'd seen Jeanne Ellen move the CR-V. Getting a car stolen twice in a twenty-four hour period would be a record even for her. He expected her to be upset.

"Yo," he said knowing she had no idea he was watching her. Her movements were jerky as she spoke into the phone.

"Call Jeanne Ellen and find out what she did with my car," she said. "_Now!_"

He wasn't pleased she'd hung up on him, but he did as she asked. He had no desire to see Jeanne Ellen be successful at Stephanie's expense.

Three hours later he was still watching her, and she was still watching Dotty's house waiting, presumably, for some sign of Evelyn or Jeanne Ellen. His phone rang again.

"Yo," Ranger said.

"I owe you _nothing_," she said. "The deal is off."

Ranger was silent for a couple beats. "Having a bad day?" he finally asked.

"My bad day has nothing to do with this," she said and she hung up. He thought her bad day might have something to do with Jeanne Ellen. He called her back and wondered as the phone rang if he should just tell her Jeanne Ellen was seeing Lester. She picked up the phone and began to talk.

"I've been under a lot of stress," she said. "I might even be sick with a fever."

"And?"

"And what?"

"I thought you might want to retract the part where you tell me the deal is off," Ranger said.

There was a long silence on the phone.

"Well?" Ranger asked.

"I'm thinking."

"That's always dangerous," Ranger said. And he hung up.

He had long hours ahead of him, watching Stephanie. He found himself thinking again of a captor and its prey. Stephanie had never been afraid of him and he didn't think she was now. Her mood might just be because her situation wasn't good, or maybe because she felt like she was being cornered. She'd made the choice to call him in on DeChooch. Maybe she needed to be reminded of that. He and Stephanie were acting just like Shadow and the rubber mouse. There was the capture, the toying with, and the release. He just wasn't sure if he was the cat or the damn rubber mouse.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit**

Chapter 23

It was almost a week before they made contact again. He'd been on his way home after helping Lester take down an FTA. Bennie Watson was known to put up a fight and he'd lived up to his reputation. Lester had been in a hurry to get back to RangeMan as he had plans for the evening, presumably with Jeanne Ellen, but Ranger didn't ask in case Lester felt the need to share details. Ranger had offered to take Bennie to the PD for processing and in the process had run into Morelli.

They nodded to one another, each of them attending to their own business. As Ranger was getting ready to leave, Morelli made his way across the work area to stand in front of him. Both men were aware of a lessening of conversation in the room.

"Can I buy you a beer?" Morelli asked. Ranger nodded. "I'll meet you at Pino's in ten minutes," Morelli continued. "That okay for you?" Ranger nodded again and walked out wondering what the hell Morelli wanted to talk to him about that couldn't be said in the processing area. Stephanie, obviously, but what in particular? Did he know about the deal? Ranger hoped so.

Ranger arrived at Pino's before Morelli and walked to the bar. He ordered two long-necks and took them to the booth in the far corner. He sat on the bench against the wall, where he had a good view of the door, and waited in total stillness. Joe entered moments later and Ranger watched him walk toward the back booth. Several people in the crowd called out to him as he passed and more than one pair of female eyes watched his progress. Joe Morelli was king of his small world, Ranger realized. Maybe that's why he and Stephanie were on and off. She was probably the one person Morelli couldn't control, and Morelli liked to be in control. It's what made him a good cop.

Morelli sat without speaking and took a drink. He set the bottle down decisively on the table and looked over at Ranger.

"Do you know about Stephanie and Abruzzi?" Morelli asked tersely. Something in the tone of his voice betrayed him. He was here for the best of reasons, a true concern for Stephanie, and not to draw some imaginary line in the sand.

Ranger nodded. "I'm providing security for her," Ranger said, "but she's not aware of it."

Morelli's face was somber. "That's probably the best way. Abruzzi is crazy in a way we haven't seen since Benito and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't concerned." He took another drink before he continued. "I don't know how she is going to disengage herself from Abruzzi's radar. Did she tell you about the spiders? And Abruzzi's comments to her?"

"I know about the spiders," Ranger said. He didn't say he knew about them because of the surveillance he'd placed on her. She hadn't said a word, but then they hadn't talked. "I also know he approached her in front of Dotty's house, but I don't know what was said."

"He told her he'd come after her with a vengeance, and rip the heart out of her body while it's still beating," Morelli said. "She didn't tell me, but Jeanne Ellen Burrows was nearby and heard the entire conversation. She told me."

That was interesting news. Jeanne Ellen was probably in the sack right now with one of his best men. She knew of Ranger's concern for Steph, but she'd chosen to tell Morelli.

"Does Jeanne Ellen think you and Stephanie are still together?" Ranger asked. "That you're providing security for her?"

Morelli gave him a long look before answering. "No, she doesn't think that. We aren't together, but it doesn't mean I don't care about her safety. It's not looking like we will get back together. I can't deal with her life."

Ranger drained his beer and stood. "Thanks for the information," he said. He walked out the door and dialed Vince. "Are you watching Stephanie?" he asked.

"Yeah," Vince replied. "I think she's on her way home now. I'm a couple of hundred yards behind her."

"I'm on my way to her place," Ranger said. "When you see me you can consider yourself off duty. You can send someone back tomorrow at 0700." He disconnected and turned toward her apartment.

She was standing with Albert Kloughn in her parking lot, but it looked like Kloughn was leaving. As Ranger pulled to a stop and got out he saw the surveillance car slide away from the curb. She was his responsibility now, at least until 0700. She was distracted, talking to Kloughn and didn't see him coming. As Kloughn drove off, she turned to go into the building and bumped into him.

"Ranger!" she exclaimed.

He was standing close, and he was smiling. "Big date?"

"It's been a strange day. Is this a social visit?"

"As social as I get. I'm on my way home from a job."

"Home to the Bat Cave."

"Yeah. The Bat Cave," Ranger said.

"I'd like to see the Bat Cave sometime."

Their eyes held.

"Maybe someday," he said. "Looks like you could use some bodywork on your car."

She told him about the spiders and about Abruzzi suggesting to her that at some point in time he'd rip her heart out. Ranger was pleased she'd told him, because he knew there was a lot she didn't tell, and he was worried. Abruzzi didn't make idle threats. His face showed nothing of his fears. His stance was relaxed. His stomach was in knots, but she didn't need the pressure of his concerns.

"Let me get this straight," Ranger said. "You were driving along after being attacked by a flock of geese and a spider jumped at you and caused you to smash into a parked car."

"Stop smiling," she said.

"I'm not smiling, Babe."

"You are." She turned a wan smile up to him. It was what he'd needed to see.

"It isn't funny. I _hate_ spiders," she said.

He slung an arm around her shoulders. "I know you do, Babe. And you're worried Abruzzi will make good on his threat."

"Yes."

"You have too many dangerous men in your life."

"Do you have any suggestions on how I can cut the list down?" she asked.

"You could kill Abruzzi. No one would mind," Ranger said. "He's not a popular guy."

"And the other dangerous men in my life?"

"Not life threatening. You might get your heart _broken_, but you won't get it ripped out of your body."

"Good to know," she said. "Aside from your suggestion of killing Abruzzi, I don't know how to get him to stop. Soder might want his daughter back, but Abruzzi is after something else. And whatever it is that Abruzzi is after, he thinks I'm after it, too."

"We'll figure it out, Babe. We'll find out what he's after." He watched her as she looked up toward her apartment window.

"So," she said, "as long as you're here, I don't suppose you'd want to come up and have a glass of wine?"

"Are you inviting me for more than wine?"

"Sort of."

"Let me take a guess. You want me to make sure your apartment is secure."

"Yes."

He beeped his car locked, and when they got to the second floor, he took her key and he opened her apartment door. Ranger flipped the lights on and looked around. He made a quick but thorough check of her apartment.

"No snakes, no spiders, no bad guys," Ranger said. He realized they'd been comfortably conversing with one another, like they used to talk, before the deal. He couldn't understand why she was so freaked out at the idea of sleeping with him. He'd been upfront and very straightforward with the conditions of the deal. He decided to ratchet things up a notch.

He reached out and pulled her close to him. "You're running up a bill. I assume you'll tell me when you're ready to settle your account."

"Sure. Absolutely. You'll be the first to know." Her nerves were back.

"Babe," Ranger said, "it's not the end of the world to sleep with me."

"It's not the sleeping I'm worried about. It's the not sleeping parts."

He leaned back his head and laughed, a rare thing for him. She was so honest.

"There are issues," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Issues?"

"Well, actually, relationships."

"Are you in a relationship?" Ranger asked.

"No. Are you?"

"My lifestyle doesn't lend itself to relationships."

"Not even with Jeanne Ellen?" she asked.

Ranger raised an eyebrow. She thought he was sleeping with Jeanne Ellen.

"Especially not Jeanne Ellen."

"Do you know what we need? Wine." She went to the kitchen to get a bottle. He knew they didn't need wine, and after her third glass he knew the deal would wait until another night. He stayed until she was asleep and then covered her with the blanket from her bed. He made sure to leave her apartment totally locked with the security bolt in place, because he knew it drove her crazy trying to figure out how he did it.

He took the stairs to the parking lot and got comfortable in his new Porsche. It was going to be a long night, and it was all his since he'd given Vince the night off. He used the hours to think. He thought of Tank and his sister in an art museum in Paris, and he thought of Abruzzi, wondering what it would take to get him to back off. He picked up his phone sometime after two a.m. and called Rodriguez intending to leave him a voice mail.

When Rodriguez answered the phone Ranger told him his new project and top priority was to find any information that would help them discover what it was that Abruzzi was trying to find. Then he sent himself an email at RangeMan. _Get Rodriguez some help. He needs a life._

Rodriguez came through for him, but it took almost a week. It was a week where Abruzzi stepped things up. Soder was dead and his body had been hacked to pieces and reassembled on Stephanie's couch. The police had cordoned off her apartment and in what Ranger considered to be a very good sign, she moved back in with her parents instead of Morelli for a few days. Now she was back at her apartment and he had news that might bring a glimmer of hope.

Ranger leaned back in his office chair and stretched his arms above his head. He'd been hard at paperwork all afternoon and when he'd got the email from Rodriguez he shut his computer down for the day. He was leading a team comprised of Bobby and several new hires that evening. They were securing a building and it was a good chance to check out the performance of some of the newer men. But when the evening's work was done he was going to stop by Stephanie's and tell her the news, and he'd cancel the security detail for the night. He'd be providing the security, and this time he'd be providing it from her bed. The wait was over. It needed to happen and it was going to happen tonight. He was hard thinking about it as he got up from his chair and went to the break room. He eschewed his usual bottled water and picked up an energy drink. He was no boy scout, but he would be prepared.

He took the stairs trying to remain calm and blank faced, but he was full of anticipation, with no worry she wouldn't live up to his fantasies. He came to a stop when he saw her couch in the hallway and he smiled. She was redecorating and he knew why.

She opened the door to his knock and he took at moment to simply look at her. Her hair was wild around her face, her eyes wide as she stepped back to let him in. He was still in full swat uniform from the job. He broke the silence first.

"Babe, your couch is in the hall."

"It has death cooties."

"I knew there'd be a good explanation. It smells like you're marking your territory with chocolate chip cookies."

"I needed something to chase away the demons."

"Any problems?"

"Nope. Not since I pushed the couch into the hall. So what's up?" she said. "You look like you're dressed for work."

"I had to secure a building earlier this evening."

He took a cookie off the plate on the floor. "Frozen?"

"Not anymore."

"How'd it go at the track?"

"I ran into Eddie Abruzzi."

"And?"

"We had words. I didn't find out as much as I'd hoped, but I'm convinced Evelyn has something he wants."

"I know what it is," Ranger said, eating his cookie.

She stared at him openmouthed. "What is it?"

He smiled. "How bad do you want to know?"

"Are we playing?"

He slowly shook his head no. "This isn't play." He backed her against the wall, and he leaned into her. His leg slid between hers and his lips brushed lightly across her lips. "How bad do you want to know, Steph?" he asked again.

"_Tell me_."

"It'll get added to the debt."

"Are you going to tell me, or what?" Her voice was husky and he knew it was because of the pressure of his thigh against her crotch. He told her about Abruzzi's war games, and about his artifacts, specifically a medal that had once belonged to Napoleon. He said Abruzzi was convinced Evelyn had stolen the medal. "Abruzzi thinks you're trying to find Evelyn to get the medal, Babe."

"How did Evelyn get the medal?" she asked.

"I don't know." He was past the point of conversation, but there were a few more words that had to be said. He moved against her so she could feel he was hard. He lowered his head and kissed her neck, and then he touched his tongue to the spot he'd just kissed and kissed it again. He slid his hand under her t-shirt to the base of her breast and he caressed her through the soft fabric of her bra.

"Pay-up time," he said. "I'm collecting on the debt."

Little sounds of protest started at the back of her throat. He was standing close, his face inches from hers, his hand at the back of her neck. "We're going to do this, Babe," he said. "It's going to be good." And then he kissed her with all the pent up desire he'd been suppressing.

He didn't let her go, but walked her across the floor to her bedroom. He flipped the light switch on and shut the door behind him. He had a plan. He never went into an op without one and this night had been meticulously planned. He let go of her and toed off his boots. His utility belt came next and he set it on the armchair. His clothes followed in quick succession and he saw her eyes take in his erection. I can deliver what I promise, Babe. He didn't say the words out loud, but he knew she got the message. He was naked, and she was fully clothed. It took him less than a minute to rectify the situation.

He leaned into her until she lost her balance and fell on the bed. He was on top of her instantly. The plan was simple. Get inside her as quickly as possible. Take her to the point where there was no time for worry about Morelli, no time for performance anxiety and no time to change her mind. Fuck her and then spend the rest of the night ruining her for all other men. Her legs opened beneath him and the tip of his cock probed, making sure she was ready to accommodate him.

She was wet, but he moved slowly to give her time to adjust to him. Her hands came around him and cupped his ass and she arched her hips taking him entirely and he forgot about the plan. He was inside her, but it wasn't deep enough. He pulled back and thrust with more force pushing his cock deeper. They moved together with an intense synchronicity, and he felt the pressure building inside him with alarming speed. This time would be for him. He'd spend the rest of the night pleasuring her, but his need was so great it couldn't be denied any longer. He began to thrust rapidly, the rhythm no longer under his control. He was close and it was going to happen soon, and then he heard soft moans, and her words. Her words closed over him. She called his name. She called _his_ name. "Carlos." And they went over the edge, for their first time, together.

Afterwards, she lay cradled in his arms. They didn't talk. He didn't know why she was quiet. He was quiet because the realization of what had just happened had him reeling. He'd had regular sex with Tulia for six months before it ended. He'd had sex with Stephanie for less than ten minutes, but he'd shared greater intimacies with Stephanie in the ten minutes than he'd ever before experienced in his life. He didn't fully understand the significance, but he recognized the truth.

He ran a hand idly up and down her body, the light pressure of his fingertips causing her to shiver. He pulled her closer and smiled and whispered in her ear. "It's time," he said.

"_Now _what?"

"You didn't think the debt would be paid that easily, did you?"

"Uh-oh, is this the part with the handcuffs?"

"I don't need handcuffs to enslave a woman," Ranger said, kissing her shoulder.

He kissed her lightly on her lips and then dipped his head to kiss her chin, her neck, her collarbone. He moved lower, kissing the swell of her breast and her nipple. He bit softly, lingering until he heard her soft moans, and then he continued his descent. He kissed her navel and then her belly, and then he put his mouth to her core. She writhed underneath his kisses, his laving, but his mouth held tight despite her bucking hips. His tongue had found its mark and he was relentless in his pursuit of pleasuring her. The first time had been for him, but now it was all for her.

Her hands were in his hair holding him in a place he didn't intend leaving. He felt the first shudders of her climax and unexpectedly the need arose in him. Before the last waves of her orgasm had faded he was inside her again. Her body surprised both of them as she came again, the new orgasm blending into the dying throes of the last one. And then he heard himself, his voice guttural and imprecise, "Stephanie…Babe….aaah."

They were wrapped around one another, breathing deeply, their sweat intermingling. She took a deep breath and said, "Wow." And he laughed, because it exactly described his thoughts. They rested for a while and then he disengaged himself from her arms. He rolled out of bed and stood with his hand extended toward her. "Come on." He reached out and took her hand and pulled her up toward him.

His arms went around her, supporting her as they made their way from the bedroom to the small outdated orange and brown bathroom. He reached in and turned the shower on, waiting until the water was warm. They stepped into the tub together and he stood close behind her letting the water stream mostly on her. He found her shower gel and squeezed some into her hands before he lathered his own hands. They washed one another with an easy familiarity, taking turns exploring one another. He found a small heart shaped mole at the base of her spine and she ran her hand over the crescent shaped scar high on his thigh. Her eyes questioned and he nodded. It was the scar from Lonnie Dodd, when he'd been acting as her mentor. Such a short time ago and yet a lifetime from where they were now. They rinsed off, but were content to stand for a moment and let the water spray over them.

He turned her away from the wall and standing behind her took both her hands in his. He reached up and wrapped her fingers around the shower curtain rod, leaving his fingers in place over hers. He nuzzled her neck and leaned in closer to whisper in her ear.

"Do you trust me, Babe?"

"Yes." Her response came without hesitation. His lowered his hands and wrapped them around her waist and pulled her lower body toward him, causing her back to arch slightly. "If I do something you're uncomfortable with, or if I take you someplace you don't want to go, let loose. When your hands come off this rod, I'll stop."

Her body gave an involuntary shiver and he knew she was remembering his claim that he didn't need handcuffs to enslave her. And they were remembering the night he'd removed handcuffs from the same rod her fingers were now tightly curled around.

Fifteen minutes later Ranger reached up with shaking hands to uncurl Stephanie's hands from the rod. She collapsed back against him and he moaned involuntarily as her body pushed his against the shower wall. They realized at the same moment they were being pelted with water that was lukewarm at best. He turned off the spray before it could become cold. Silently, they stepped out of the shower and found towels to dry one another off. As they made their way back to her bed they walked with arms entwined, neither one willing to break the connection.

He knew it was only one night and he didn't want to waste a moment, but despite his intentions, he drifted off to sleep with her in his arms. The brush of Stephanie's hair against his abdomen woke him up. She was reaching across his body, her hand over his, curling his fingers into the sheet. She reached for his other hand and curled it around a fistful of sheet. Her eyes flickered up to make sure she had his attention and then she started working her way up his body, kissing and licking. When she reached his nipple she bit, not unlike the way he'd nibbled hers earlier. He felt the faint edge of pain, but then her tongue replaced her teeth and the pleasure flooded through him. He felt the vibration of her lips against his neck as she asked, "Do you trust me?"

His response was simple. "Yes."

Her hands slid down and covered his, which were still fisted, full of sheet. "Hold on, Ranger, and if I do something you're not comfortable with, just turn loose…I'll stop." She flashed him a wide smile and then she began a downward path with her lips, kissing, biting and exploring. The sheet was twisted around his hips, his erection tenting it above his abdomen. She impatiently pushed the sheet down and exposed his cock.

He followed her gaze down and felt an unusual vulnerability. He throbbed under her gaze and his cock moved of its own accord, waiting impatiently for what was to come. Her head dipped and she took him into her mouth.

"Babe...Baaabe!"

Again, they slept. He awoke with a start and looked at the bedside clock. They had three hours. She was deeply asleep and he spent a moment looking at her hair spread wildly across the pillow. He remembered the night he'd come to watch her sleep. He'd wanted to reach out and caress her that night, and now he was filled with a wonder that he was in her bed next to her. His hand came up and tangled in her hair and he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Her eyes opened and she gave him a lazy smile. What might have happened next was forestalled by a loud rumble. His stomach, not hers. It seemed mundane to think of food, when he should be using the time to touch her, but he thought he needed fuel.

She sat up in bed. "Stay here, I'll be right back." She left the bed and the room quickly and came back just as quickly. "Sorry, I need to go shopping. This is as good as I can do." She handed him a chocolate chip cookie and he took it and ate. He heard the crinkle of cellophane and looked to see she was unwrapping a Tastykake. She held it up to him and he opened his mouth.

It was a night of firsts. He'd never had a Tastykake and he was unprepared for the cream filling which spurted out and dribbled down his chin. He raised a hand to wipe his face and Stephanie's hand came out to stop him. She fed him another bite, this time purposefully smearing the cream filling over his lips. She leaned into him and kissed him, her tongue delicately licking the filling from his face. He made little moans of pleasure not unlike the ones she made when she ate a Tastykake. She popped the last piece of the cake into her own mouth. He was not normally a verbal lover, but he couldn't seem to control the sounds and the responses of his body as he watched her eat.

Sex and junk food was a new experience for him. He began to wonder about her other food favorites, and once again his cock was tenting the sheet. He pulled it back and looked at himself. "Do you have any donuts?" he asked, mentally exploring the opportunities.

The night progressed and he lost track of the times they made love. They'd been horizontal, vertical and positions in between. She'd been on top, he'd been on top and he'd been behind. His penis was sore, and he'd probably be bruised tomorrow and he was concerned for Stephanie, but she made no complaint. His need was unrelenting. It took his body more time to recover after each session of love making and even though he tried not to, he slept.

When he awoke in the early hours of the morning it was to find himself hard again. He lifted his head from the pillow and looked down at Stephanie. Her eyes were open and on him and something passed between them. Wordlessly, he rolled over and entered her. His movements were fluid and sensual. It was if he had all the time in the world. His eyes wanted to glance at the LED display of her clock, but he wouldn't let his gaze drift from her face. He was gentle with her, and his gentleness elicited the same building of passion as the earlier more intense love making. They were quiet, each of them internalizing their feelings, and this time he let his passions build slowly. When he sensed he was near he lifted himself a little away from her and let his fingers slip down to caress her and bring her over the edge. He watched as her climax built and overtook her and then he concentrated on his own release. He came with an intensity that shattered him and pieces of himself and his life rained down around her…the one woman he knew could make him whole. The woman who, he shot a look at her alarm, he was going to walk away from in an hour.

When the alarm on his wristwatch woke her, he pulled his arm out from under her head. He was dull, unfocused and in pain. He had a plan that had been conceived when he was in a state of mind that had allowed him to think logically, and he had to follow his plan. They'd had their night. He hadn't ever planned on it being hard to leave.

"I have to go, Babe," he said. She watched him roll out of bed and get dressed. There were no words spoken. He walked to the doorway and turned. Her blue eyes were liquid. He walked out, not taking time to lock the door behind him. He got in the Porsche and pulled out of her lot. The RangeMan security detail was in place. As he drove by, he saw Tank sitting in the nondescript vehicle. He wasn't ready, would never be ready to talk about this night. And Tank would force the issue. Fuck.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 24

He was in love with her. He couldn't tell anyone else, so he might as well admit it to himself. He thought they'd be good together. They had been amazing last night. She was adventurous, willing and generous and he was a fool. He didn't tell anyone he was offline; he just didn't answer calls or pages. They'd all be forwarded to Tank. When Ella had tried to enter his apartment to clean he'd told her to go away. He was careful to make it seem inconvenient, because if Ella thought something was really wrong, he'd have his mother to deal with, and that would be too much.

He didn't eat and he didn't sleep. He sat staring at nothing all day, thinking how he'd hurt her. Not physically, probably, at least not permanently. She'd be sore, there was no doubt. He knew she wasn't used to that kind of marathon sex. But he'd hurt her just the same. He wasn't an egotist, but he knew what had happened between them wasn't something easily duplicated, so even though it had been a boast, he might have ruined her for all other men, because she sure the fuck had ruined him for all other women.

It was three in the afternoon when he went to the gym. He started on the treadmill and was just getting off when he looked up to see Tank. Ranger held Tank's gaze and saw the acknowledgement of his need in Tank's eyes.

They stepped together into the ring. Ranger was skilled in several disciplines, but Tank could consistently kick his ass. Not that he wanted it kicked. He just needed a release and he didn't want to worry about harming one of his men. Tank turned to pull off his t-shirt. Ranger's leg shot out in a high kick that caught him across the kidneys and knocked the unsuspecting Tank to the floor. Tank stood and centered himself for a moment and then asked calmly, "What do you want? Bruises, fractures, or death?" It was an outrageous thing to say, but the underlying note of seriousness caught the attention of the other exercisers in the gym, and the men had an audience. They went at it for fifteen minutes before Tank contained Ranger. He wrapped his arms around his boss in what might have been mistaken for a hug. He squeezed tightly and Ranger's arms were trapped at his sides. He leaned in and spoke softly, "I don't know what you destroyed, Rangeman, but you'd better repair it."

"What makes you think I destroyed anything?" Ranger said as he broke free and swung around readying himself for another attack.

Tank hit him in the gut with two rapid punches. "Because I was on Stephanie duty today, and I saw her." Ranger stilled as Tank continued. "And she's in deep shit, besides whatever you piled on her. She needs a safe house. Even round the clock security isn't going to cut it. Abruzzi is stepping up his activities. He's mounting an offensive in his psycho war against Stephanie."

"She won't go to a safe house," Ranger said. "I've already asked her."

"Then Abruzzi needs to disappear," Tank said. "He's well protected. It wouldn't be easy."

"Have you been keeping tabs on Abruzzi?" Ranger asked.

"I'm trying, but it's not always possible. I figured if he's a threat we should know all we can about his day to day activities."

"Who did you choose to help you gather information?" Ranger asked.

"No one. I sent it to you."

Tank's last words came out at the same time Ranger made his request. "Send it to me." Tank's fist made the connection with lightning speed and Ranger's head rocketed back. Ranger felt the salty, metallic taste of blood in his mouth immediately and ran his tongue quickly over his teeth to make sure they were all there. He looked over to see Tank standing in the doorway to the gym. "That's for the kidney kick earlier," he said and started to walk out.

"Tank," Ranger called. "I'll be in my office in a half-hour. Find Hector and tell him I need to see him."

Hector had been gone from Ranger's office for a full five minutes before Ranger picked up his phone. His lip was sore, but not noticeably swollen. Tank had made his point though. He didn't think it would affect his speech, but he could use it as an excuse if he found he was incapable of talking. Her normalcy when she answered the phone encouraged him, and he thought he sounded normal when he said, "Are you going to be home for a while? I want to send someone over to set up a security system."

"You think I need a security system?"

"I do. My man's name is Hector," Ranger said. "He's on his way."

Hector was almost finished with the installation when Ranger walked up to the open doorway. Although Hector understood English Ranger spoke to him in Spanish because it was Hector's preference. The sound of their voices drew Stephanie from her apartment and she joined them in the doorway. Ranger glanced her way, but didn't meet her eyes. He was intent on Hector's explanation of the system he'd installed. When Ranger understood completely, Hector picked up his tool case and headed for the stairs. Ranger turned then and their eyes met. He handed her a small keypad and spent the next few minutes explaining it to her as Hector had explained it to him.

She looked down at the remote. "Does this go on the tab?"

"There's no tab. And there's no price for what we give each other. Not ever. Not financial. Not emotional. I have to get back to work."

He stepped away to leave, and she grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "Not so fast. This isn't television. This is my life. I want to know more about this no-emotional-price thing."

"It's the way it has to be."

"And what's this job you have to get back to?"

"I'm running a surveillance operation for a government agency. We're independent contractors. You aren't going to grill me on details, are you?" Because if she did, he might have to tell her the job was in Atlanta, not Trenton and there was, in fact, no RangeMan business to prevent him from staying another night.

She released his shirt and blew out a sigh. "I can't do this. This isn't going to work. I can't act as though nothing happened last night. I'm not a casual sex kind of person."

"What part did you think was casual?" he asked. She was startled by the comment, he could see, but she said nothing.

"Stephanie, I told you my life doesn't lend itself to relationships, at least not right now. You have someone else you care about, someone whose lifestyle suits you better."

"Morelli?" she asked. "You think I care about Morelli?"

"Babe, the day I met you I could tell you had unresolved feelings for Morelli," he told her. "And he has feelings for you. I'm being a good guy right now because it suits my purposes, but I'm an opportunist, and I'm…attracted to you. And I'll be back in your bed if the Morelli time-out goes on for too long. I could make you forget Morelli if I put my mind to it. That wouldn't be good for either of us. You need to repair your relationship with Morelli." She stayed unmoving in her doorway as he turned and walked down the stairs.

The reports Tank sent him on Abruzzi occupied all of Ranger's free time. Abruzzi wasn't going to go away. Even if he got his medal back, Stephanie wouldn't be safe. There was a logical solution to the problem, but it required planning, good timing and perfect execution. He smiled at his macabre pun. He was in the midst of studying the floor plans of Abruzzi's office when his phone rang. Jeanne Ellen.

"Yo."

"I've got a visual on Evelyn. I'm at the Newark airport with my FTA and I can see Evelyn, Dotty and the kids. They're waiting to board a plane for Miami. I can't make a detour to acquire any other information. My hands are full right now."

"I'll take care of the rest," he told her. "Thanks." He disconnected and called Tank.

"Do you have a location on Stephanie?" Ranger asked.

"Yeah, she's at home and I'm down the block, watching."

"Jeanne Ellen called. She's sighted Evelyn and Dotty at the Newark airport. They're getting ready to leave for Miami. Can you get me the particulars?"

"Yes." Tank disconnected and Ranger made his way to Stephanie's apartment. Getting the medal wouldn't solve the problem even if Evelyn would give it up, but he thought Stephanie would want to try.

They made it to the airport and found Evelyn and as Ranger thought, they came away without the medal. He would have to go ahead with his plan. It was midafternoon when he and Stephanie arrived back at her apartment. He didn't go in with her, the new security system Hector had installed was working well and the ever present RangeMan surveillance was in place.

The next day he was in the bonds office when Stephanie walked in. She was excited and talking rapidly to Lula and Connie. Her skip was dead, and he'd died of the flu. There was general astonishment at her story, but Ranger wasn't listening. He was smiling.

"Did you just arrive here in a cab?" he asked her. She ignored him. He said, "Babe, you went after an FTA in a cab." He was smiling widely.

"Maybe," she conceded.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asked.

"Yes," she said and she turned and left the bonds office and headed for his truck. He followed her out and slid into the driver's seat. She looked across and smiled at him and he felt a small lightening of his heart. Maybe they were going to be able to get over what had happened that night. She took in a deep breath and sighed and he looked over to see the rise and fall of her breasts under her t-shirt. He had a hard on. Hell.

They arrived at her building to see a man in an SUV parked at the edge of her lot by the dumpster. "Do you know him?" Ranger asked.

"No."

"Let's go talk to him," Ranger said. They got out of the truck and approached the SUV. Ranger rapped on the window.

The driver rolled the window down. "Yeah?"

"Waiting for someone?"

"What's it to you?"

Ranger reached in, grabbed the guy by the front of his jacket, and pulled him halfway through the window.

"I'd like you to take a message to Eddie Abruzzi," Ranger said. "Can you do that for me?"

The driver nodded.

Ranger released the driver and stepped back. "Tell Abruzzi he's lost the war, and he should move on." They'd only been in her apartment five minutes when Ranger's truck blew up. Abruzzi had called him and told him to look out the window and he saw the man in the SUV was back. He lobbed a package into the truck bed and suddenly the truck was another budget entry under entertainment.

The cops came quickly, Morelli shortly after them. There was generalized chaos as photos of the truck were taken and both he and Stephanie were interviewed. He heard Morelli talking to Steph and he walked closer to eavesdrop.

"I need to talk to Ranger," Morelli said. "You're not going anywhere, are you?"

"If I could borrow your truck I'd get a pizza. I'm starved."

Morelli gave her his keys and a twenty. "Get two. I'll call it in to Pino's for you."

Ranger wanted to interrupt. She shouldn't be going anywhere alone. He picked up his phone and made a quick call and was relieved to find out the surveillance was still in place. It was Hector and he would follow her to Pino's.

When Stephanie was gone Morelli walked over to Ranger and handed him a small flash drive. Ranger raised an eyebrow and Morelli looked right and left. No one was paying any attention to them. "It's all the personal information we have on Abruzzi." Ranger took the drive and pocketed it. He didn't question Morelli. Morelli was smart and had reached the same conclusion Ranger had. There was only one solution to the problem. Morelli was taking a big risk giving the information to him, even bigger than the risk to take it from police files. Stephanie mattered to Morelli.

When Ranger's phone rang and he saw Hector on the caller ID, he knew. Hector confirmed it immediately. There were a couple of techs still at work with the remains of the truck, but other than them he and Morelli were alone. Ranger turned to Morelli.

"Abruzzi's got her. I had a man tail her to Pino's and he saw her get in a green van and then the van took off. There were two men in masks and Hector thinks another woman in the back. One of the guys in the van got off a lucky shot and Hector's vehicle was disabled. He got a partial on the plate and he saw them head out over the bridge."

They went into action immediately. They made Pino's their command center. Ranger called Tank and he came and helped coordinate the search. They used all the available information and came up with nothing. The men were thorough and methodical in their search. They were professional and the emotions involved were hidden out of the way. They did everything right and two hours later they had squat. They were about to reassess and begin again when the sound of a roaring engine caught their attention. Hector, Tank, Ranger and Morelli pulled their weapons as they saw the green van roar into the parking lot. The driver's door opened and Stephanie rolled out and collapsed as her legs refused to support her.

Her face was bruised and one eye was swollen almost completely shut. There was dried blood crusted on the corner of her mouth, and then he saw her arm. Her sleeve had been cut away and there was a long, angry burn mark. The SOB had tortured her.

Morelli lifted her from the ground and she looked up at him, and then over at Ranger. "He's in Pennsylvania," she said. "In a house on a dirt road. He would have killed me, but Valerie drove the van into the house and somehow we got out."

"How do you want to do this?" Morelli asked Ranger.

"Take Steph and Valerie home," Ranger said. He looked at Steph and their eyes met for a long moment. He focused on her, the red cloud seeping in from the edges, destroying his peripheral vision and framing the haunted look she gave him.

He had a full night of work ahead. He turned to Tank and Hector. "Let's go home."

He was quiet on the way to Haywood, thinking and planning. He made a production of making the rounds of the control room and the monitor bays making sure he was picked up by every security camera in the place. He announced his intention to go to his apartment and then walked slowly across the control room and waited for the elevator instead of taking the stairs like he normally would. As he entered the elevator and was picked up by a new camera, he pulled out his phone and called Morelli. He had no need to find out that Stephanie was safely ensconced in Morelli's bed, but he was alibiing himself. There would be no questions in the morning. Morelli answered on the second ring and told Ranger that Valerie was safely at home and Stephanie was in the ER having her burn dressed. Once again, Ranger stated his intention to go to his apartment and try to get some much needed rest.

Once he was inside his apartment he stripped and showered. He used an unscented bar of soap to lather his body and hair. He pulled his hair back off his face and tied it with a leather thong. He remembered Stephanie asking him if he was going to let it grow after he'd cut it a few months earlier. He thought the short hair looked more professional for the CEO of RangeMan, but he remembered the pleasure she experienced during their night, running her hands through his hair. He remembered the pleasure he'd experienced when she did it. He dressed quickly in his standard black, but left his weapons on the table next to his bed. He walked to his closet and moved clothing aside. He quickly opened his safe and pulled out his weapon of choice. A Ruger Police Service Six .357 Magnum Revolver, standard issue for the Trenton PD. He smiled at the thought of the investigation that would follow.

He sat quietly until he was in complete control and then he went over Tank's Intel. He wouldn't use what Morelli had given him. There was no need and if questioned he could honestly say he knew nothing of the police information regarding Eddie Abruzzi. Morelli had taken a risk, and he respected him for it.

When the time came he was calm. He walked into his dressing room and bent low to touch the baseboard on the cedar wall. Just as before, the panel slid open and he disappeared into the darkness.

His first stop was going to be Abruzzi's apartment, but he expected it to be empty. He made the trip on foot and took his time doing so, being invisible to those he passed. The apartment was quiet and he made his way in easily, stopping to note the inferior security system. Abruzzi's best security came in the form of paid goons who acted first and thought later, but there were no goons at the apartment. He did a quick walk through and decided to try his office, which was where he thought he'd find him. He only had a few blocks to traverse, Abruzzi's office being across the square from the farmer's market in City Center. He saw the green SUV parked in the empty farmer's market lot and recognized it as the one that had been in Stephanie's lot, and he could see a figure unmoving behind the wheel.

He made his way up from behind the vehicle, his gun drawn. His movements were agile and silent as he approached the driver's door. It was a man and he was slumped in an unusual, but familiar position. As Ranger got close he could see the window on the driver's side was down. The smell hit him first and the realization immediately after. It was the strange mixture of blood and body fluids that was unmistakable. Abruzzi's head was angled to the right, a small bullet hole in his left temple. Although he couldn't see from his position, Ranger knew the right side of his head would be missing. There was a small handgun clenched in Abruzzi's left hand which was lying in his blood soaked lap. Ranger remembered Tank's notes. Abruzzi was left-handed. He flicked on his mag light briefly to read the note he saw lying on the dashboard.

_My businesses aren't doing well. I have nothing left to live for._

The script had a backhanded slant typical of a left-handed writer. There was something familiar about the large loop of the y, but Ranger knew he wasn't familiar with Abruzzi's writing. He turned off his flashlight and disappeared into the night. He didn't see the silent figure in the shadows across the street.

Ranger took his time getting back to Haywood. It was a clear night and the walk helped him refocus on the job at hand. His work wasn't over even though this night was not going at all as he'd planned. When he was in his apartment he found all printed papers regarding Eddie Abruzzi. He took them into his office and fed them sheet by sheet, including the hand written notes, into his level 6 crosscut security shredder. He'd remind Ella to empty the basket in the morning.

He turned on his computer and systematically deleted every piece of information on Eddie Abruzzi, covering his tracks as he did so. His eyes fell on the flash drive from Morelli. It probably was encoded to self-erase, but he had an easier and more satisfying way of destroying it. He pulled his mag light from his utility belt and used it as a hammer to crush the drive in pieces and scooped them into the shred basket.

He sat back and stretched and waited for the call he knew would come. When his phone rang an hour later he checked the caller ID and smiled.

"How'd you do it?"

"How'd _you_ do it?" Ranger asked back. They both disconnected, and Ranger went to bed to get a few hours of sleep. He was up early the next morning and on five by 0600. The security camera showed him exiting the elevator and walking to his office, where he found Tank stretched out in his favorite Eames chair. He was asleep, Ranger thought.

Ranger sat at his desk and looked at the papers stacked up. He was going to need another meeting with Holly soon. He'd lost two vehicles in a short space of time.

"You're not on the tape," Tank said. "I went over every fucking minute of it and you're not on the tape."

Ranger looked up and smiled. "You should take the day off, Tank. You look tired."

Tank stood up and walked toward the desk. He held out his fist and Ranger bumped his against the massive black knuckles and he felt thankful. He thought of Stephanie with Morelli and he stood abruptly, sending his chair careening backwards. He began to pace the small confines of his office. Carlos Mañoso knew himself well, and he knew he would stay away from Stephanie as long as she was with Morelli, so while he was miserable at the thought of Stephanie in Morelli's bed, part of him was glad she was there.

Stephanie caught the eye of Eddie Abruzzi with no help from him, but he had enemies that would make Abruzzi seem tame. He couldn't risk her safety no matter how much he desired her. They'd had their night and it should have been enough. It should have been enough. The realization settled heavily on his shoulders and weighed him down. Eternity with Stephanie wouldn't be enough.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: I use then for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 25

Alexander Ramos was getting old and sloppy, but not so old and sloppy he'd given up control of his empire. The recent mess with Homer's foray into the Trenton drug market had put Alexander back in the seat of power with his family business. The situation had required a delicate hand and the offended parties had insisted on dealing with the old man. Ranger looked at the hand-addressed envelope he held gingerly between his fingers. He had a sample of Ramos' handwriting, but there were other ways of verification he'd use to authenticate the note. Until this point, Ramos' communications with Ranger had taken place mostly according to Ramos' schedule and at his favorite dive, The Whiplash Bar.

Ranger walked into the store room and pulled a pair of nitrile gloves from an open box, and searched until he found zip-lock bags, two shelves beneath the gloves. The store room could benefit from a dose of Ella. He put in on his mental 'to do' list. Back at his desk, the nitrile gloves snapped tautly in place, he opened the heavy cream envelope. The hand writing was bold, but he noticed evidence of a tremor at the end of the strokes. He was far from being a handwriting expert, even when he compared this to the previous sample of Ramos' writing, which he would do soon. He read the message.

_Ranger,_

_There is presently an uneasy alliance between the Ramos family and the Grizolli family, no thanks to the stupid actions of my sons. We will stick to the business of arms and leave the drugs to the Grizollis. I apologize for the behavior of Homer. He won't be a problem anymore. He is living at the family home on Corfu, permanently. I wouldn't have let him implicate you in his faked death if I had known of my sons' stupidity._

_Alexander Ramos_

One zip-lock bag was for the note, the other for the contaminated envelope. His dealings with the Ramos family were over. If they needed him for anything else it would be totally at his discretion, because Alexander Ramos had just handed him a signed confession of his own involvement, as well as his sons, in an illicit act. The man was slipping. Ranger picked up the phone and called Vince, the resident fingerprint expert.

"I've got a job for you," he said. "I need to see if you can lift some prints off a card and then, how are you at handwriting analysis?"

"Prints I can do," Vince said. "Handwriting, well, I'll give it a look, but we've still got connections we can use."

"I'd rather keep this quiet. It's an insurance policy for me. Come by my office." He disconnected and went to the safe he kept in the corner. Inside was the card with the hospice address Alexander had given him the day he'd gone to see Nicolas Kouris. He'd have Vince check it for prints as well, but he doubted there'd be any clear prints but his own.

While he was waiting for Vince, Ranger picked up the phone and called Hector. "I need Alexander Ramos' fingerprints. Can you get in and out of IAFIS without notice?" The FBI didn't take kindly to people hacking their systems.

"Shit, boss, I'll do anything you ask, but someday I'd like a challenge. This is kid's play." Hector disconnected and Ranger sat at his desk smiling. Rodriguez was good, very good. Hector was even better, and when there was something in a grey area he went to Hector. Alexander Ramos' fingerprints might be a dark grey area, but he'd no doubt about the outcome of the search. Hector would come through for him.

He saw the stairwell door open and Vince entered the control room. He reread the note through the plastic before he handed it to Vince. Then he sat down to think. Business was better than ever. There had been some recent budgetary overruns, but not enough that Holly was bugging him yet. He wanted to put a small forensics lab in the building. He'd let Vince take charge of it, if Holly thought they could afford it. They had connections, but it was nice to keep things in-house when possible. He'd talk to Holly about it when they next met.

He let his mind wander for a moment, and as always it wandered toward Stephanie. He tried not to think of her, but he was never successful. He remembered the term Alexander had used in his note, 'an uneasy alliance'. That described exactly the relationship he and Stephanie had slipped into. So when Vinnie'd asked him to find a high bond skip he'd agreed and said he needed someone to assist him, and Vinnie'd given him Stephanie.

She hadn't acted all that concerned about working with him and some days they nearly reached their pre-deal relationship. Some days it was strained. Like two days ago when they were having easy conversation about their case. Until he put his foot in his mouth in a very big way. She'd taken it pretty well though.

They'd gone together to search Singh's room to see if they could find anything helpful. Their FTA lived with his future mother-in-law and his fiancée, and Ranger had thought the daughter was more worried about finding her missing dog than she was about finding her fiancé.

Ranger'd asked Stephanie, "What do you think?"

"Nonnie never asked about Singh. She only asked about Boo."

"Not exactly the distraught fiancée," Ranger said.

"If we believe everything we hear, we've got a nice geeky guy who got himself engaged and disappeared along with the dog."

"The dog could be a coincidence."

"I don't think so. My Spidey Sense tells me the disappearances are related."

Ranger grinned at her. "Your Spidey Sense tell you anything else?"

"Is that a mocking grin?"

"It's the grin of a man who loves you, Babe."

"Love?"

"There's all kinds of love," Ranger said. "This kind doesn't come with a ring attached." She was quiet for just a moment and then her sense of humor seemed to reassert itself.

"Nice," she told him, "but you avoided answering my question about the mocking grin."

He gave her ponytail a playful tug and she left him to go home to eat dinner with her parents.

He went home with a hard-on and punched a bag in the gym for forty-five minutes before he took a cold shower, all the while berating himself, mentally, for being a fucking idiot.

His introspection was cut short by Tank's appearance in his doorway. "Morelli's at it again," he said perfunctorily. There was no emotion or surprise in the big man's voice.

"Are you still tailing him?" Ranger asked. Tank nodded.

"Why are you doing this?" Ranger asked, truly puzzled. He was always glad of the information, but he didn't understand Tank's interest in the secret life of Joe Morelli.

"Don't you want to know what I saw?"

Ranger pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Yes," he said, thinking he could guess.

"I put a video camera across the street from Terry Gilman's townhouse. It runs into the monitors here and every forty-eight hours it loops and re-records. Usually not much goes on, but occasionally she gets some interesting visitors. I've been busy so I sat down today to run through it, and I'm glad I did. I've got Morelli on tape, jumping out of her bedroom window in the middle of the night. He was dressed except for his shoes, which she threw down to him. She was not dressed."

"Naked?" Ranger asked.

"Near enough. She had some flimsy see-through thing on, but I could see the butterfly tattoo on her ass."

"From across the street? That must be some video camera you've got, to see that detail in the dark."

"RangeMan's best," Tank said earning a scowl from his boss. "She has to be told. She's living with the son-of-a-bitch. You gonna tell her?"

Ranger sighed and again pinched the bridge of his nose, "Yeah," he said. "I'll tell her." I'll tell her the man I sent her back to is screwing around. That will help us rebuild our friendship. "I'll talk to her tomorrow at the latest. Maybe later today if I can get hold of her. I tried earlier, but couldn't get her."

His answer must have satisfied Tank, because he rose and left the room. He'd no more than gone when he turned around and stuck his head back through the doorway. "It's my hobby," he said. "I watch Morelli because he's a damn sight more entertaining than cable, and I sent him a copy of the tape." And then he was gone.

Ranger wondered what would happen when he told Stephanie. She would move out, of course, which wasn't good. As long as she was with Morelli she was safe, primarily from him, but he couldn't allow the SOB to hurt her. And she had yet another stalker, one that was leaving her flowers and notes. It had started right after they'd begun investigating the disappearance of Singh for Vinnie, and he knew it was connected. His desk phone rang and he picked it up.

"Boss, there is a Trenton PD detective here to see you. Name of Morelli." It was Erik, one of his newer employees and Ranger could tell he was ignorant of the history between him and Morelli. Nice to know the office grapevine left some secrets intact.

"Send him up," Ranger said. He was interested to see what would bring Morelli to his turf, and he knew whatever it was the chances were great the encounter would be unpleasant. He walked from his office to the elevator to meet Morelli and was surprised to see Morelli step off the elevator and flash his badge.

"Joe Morelli, Trenton PD homicide. I need to ask you some questions, Mr. Mañoso." Ranger nodded slightly and led Morelli into his office closing the door behind him.

"This is an official visit then?" he questioned Morelli.

Morelli looked around. "Is this office secure or am I once again being recorded unknowingly by RangeMan video?"

"The office is secure," Ranger said. "If I pull the blind on the window by the door we'll be completely private."

"No need," Morelli said curtly. "I would be happy for those around here to assume this is an official visit. And on one level it is, because I can give you some information on the Abruzzi investigation, but we have private business to discuss."

Ranger chose to ignore the last part of Morelli's statement. "Is the investigation on Abruzzi's suicide still ongoing then? I thought it would be closed by now."

"The investigation is still open. Simmons is the primary and if it was anyone else but Abruzzi there'd be no question of the suicide. Since he had a list of enemies longer than my arm, the case is still open. The possibility exists you might be questioned about your whereabouts that night."

"I have an airtight alibi for that night," Ranger said calmly. Let them look at me, he thought. It will take suspicion away from someone whose alibi might not stand up to close inspection. "It can be both an advantage and a disadvantage to live in a building that is so closely monitored. I'm sure I can produce evidence to prove I was in my apartment all night."

"I never thought you couldn't," Morelli said. "In any case that's the reason I'm using for this visit. I'm here for another purpose entirely. Stop the surveillance of my life. It's really starting to piss me off."

"RangeMan isn't surveilling you," Ranger said coolly.

"Cut the bullshit, Mañoso. I got the video tape of me at Terry's apartment." Morelli stared at Ranger for a moment before continuing. "There's more going on here than you know."

"I'll repeat myself," Ranger said. "RangeMan is not surveilling you. One of my men has a special fondness for Stephanie and he is doing his best to protect her. He wants to make sure she knows what her boyfriend is up to."

"I'm not her boyfriend," Morelli growled. His temper was near the surface, and he took several deep breaths in an attempt to regain control. "What I can tell you is limited by a promise I made to Stephanie, and I won't break it. I love Stephanie, and I'll do pretty much anything she asks of me, but we are not together. She's living with me to keep you at arm's length."

He sighed and pushed his overlong hair back off his face. "And we are also living together to keep her mother off her back. Her mom wants us together and Steph's life is a lot easier if her mother isn't constantly trying to find a husband for her."

Ranger picked up a pen from his desk and slowly rolled it between his fingers. "What do you mean," he asked Morelli, "by keeping me at arm's length?"

"I mean she… shit. I know you slept together. I don't know when, or where and she didn't tell me. But we are not sleeping together. I told you once before we weren't together and we still aren't, not in that way. I'm her friend and she can depend on me and if she wants the Burg to think we are together then I'll play her game. She knows I'm seeing Terry, and she's okay with it. What she's not okay with is word getting out about me seeing Terry. She's had enough of men being unfaithful to her. I promised her I'd be discreet, and there'd be no Burg gossip. I was doing pretty good until all hell broke loose at Terry's the other night. Someone saw me leaving her place and word is all over the Burg. And then today I got a video tape which has RangeMan written all over it. That's why I'm here."

"My man may have you under surveillance, but he's not spreading the word about what he is seeing. If your activities are public it's hardly our concern." Ranger was pissed, and being careful not to show it.

"In the end it doesn't matter," Joe said. "I'm here to tell you she got pissed at me last night when she heard about me being with Terry, because I'd promised her it would be kept quiet. She left and went back to her place and she had a close call with her stalker. She was shot with a tranquilizer dart in her apartment parking lot. He left a card and a carnation, and when I found her lying on the ground I thought she was dead. It took years off my life. I've got her back at my place, but I don't see her staying there for long. It's not working out like we thought it would. I don't know why, because she didn't tell me, but it's important to her to keep up the pretense of us being a couple. I assume maybe you might have something to do with that. In any case, I'm not quite the ass you make me out to be. I'm not cheating on Stephanie and she knows that. And now you do."

Morelli stood and walked toward the closed door. "Stephanie and I have a long history, and I'm not in her bed now, but if she comes to me, I won't turn her away. Is that what you did, Mañoso? Turn her away?" He opened the door and walked through the control room toward the elevators. Ranger thought about killing him, but fortunately for Morelli, the elevator door opened immediately and the option was taken away from him.

He had to talk to Stephanie. When her phone went to voicemail, he called the bonds office. Connie informed him Stephanie was with Lula and she expected them back soon. He left his office and went to the garage eschewing his Porsche for a large black truck and pulled out of the garage. As the blocks rolled by his temper grew. He was angry at Stephanie and he didn't try to figure out why. He just lost himself in the emotion. He took a few moments before he got out of the truck to compose himself.

As he walked into the bonds office Connie looked up from her desk. "Are you here to see Vinnie?" she asked. "He's in his office actually doing some work."

"I'm here to see Stephanie," he said more gruffly than he'd intended and he saw her eyes widen. Apparently his emotion wasn't hidden as well as he'd assumed. "I'll wait." He sat down in the chair and Connie said nothing and returned to her work. She was a wise woman and knew when to be quiet. He used the time to consider his anger. It was partly fueled by Stephanie's mad dash from Morelli. She was being stalked and she knew it. She needed to take more care. If her stalker was ready to end the game she'd be gone by now. And that's what was fueling the other part of his anger. Their relationship had deteriorated to the point she chose to put herself in harm's way instead of calling him. Guilt was something that didn't set easily on his shoulders, but he was feeling it heavily today.

When Stephanie and Lula walked into the office Ranger was slouched in a chair, elbows on the arms, fingers steepled in front of him, his eyes dark and intense.

Stephanie smiled at Ranger and said, "Yo."

He lost some of the anger and smiled back at her attempt at teasing, but he didn't yo.

"We're just checking in," she told Connie, leaning on the front of her desk. "Do you have anything for me?"

"I have skips piling up on my desk," Connie said, "but Vinnie doesn't want anyone even looking at them until Singh is found."

Ranger unfolded himself and crossed the room, standing close behind her. "We need to talk," he said softly.

"Sure," she said. He could hear the uncertainty in her voice and he knew she sensed his mood.

"Now. Outside."

Lula scurried behind the file cabinets and Connie bent into nonsense paper shuffling. They sensed his mood as well. Stephanie followed Ranger out the door to the sidewalk and stood blinking in the sun.

"Get into the truck," Ranger said. "I feel like driving."

"I don't think so."

The line of his mouth tightened.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Do you want a full itinerary?"

"I don't want to get locked up in a safe house."

"I'd love to lock you up in a safe house, Babe, but that wasn't my plan for the day."

"Promise? Cross your heart and hope to die?"

There was a slight narrowing of his eyes. Ranger wasn't feeling playful. "I guess you have to decide if it's more dangerous to be in the truck with me or to stand out here as a potential target for the sniper."

She didn't move.

"Well?" he asked.

"I'm thinking."

"Dammit," Ranger said, "get in the truck."

She climbed into the truck and Ranger drove two blocks down Hamilton and turned into the Burg. He wound through the Burg and parked on Roebling in front of Marsilio's restaurant.

"I thought you wanted to drive," she said.

"That was the original plan," he said, "but you smell like rotisserie chicken and it's making me hungry."

"It's from Lula. She's on this diet where she eats meat all day."

"Fuck," he said almost conversationally. He saw a black Lincoln Town Car parked in front of the restaurant and there was a man he recognized in the driver's seat. It was Charles, his mother's long-time chauffeur, and where Charles loitered his mother wasn't far away. What would his mother be doing in the Burg? Marsilio's had a reputation as a fine dining establishment, but the Burg was not normally a place he'd expect to find his mother. He became aware of Steph's stare and he opened his door.

"Let's go," he said. "I'm hungry." He walked around and helped her down out of the big truck and they headed for the entrance. If his mother was inside then he'd deal with it. It was his turf, not hers, and he wasn't going to hide from his mother. It was a large restaurant, and possibly she wouldn't see him. And it was a public place. If she had to meet Stephanie, this was as good a place as any.

A quick perusal as they were led to their table showed no sign of his mother. He relaxed a little. Marsilio's was next to a dress shop and although he'd be surprised, his mother could be shopping. They sat and ordered quickly. He hadn't been joking about being hungry.

After the waiter left their table he said, "Tell me about last night, Babe." She looked at him quizzically. "Morelli came to see me this morning," he said. She flushed.

"What did he tell you?" she asked.

"He said you'd had a disagreement, and you went back to your apartment. And then you were attacked."

"I was," she said. "I don't know who my stalker is, but it's related to Singh, I'm sure." He listened as she told him of her stalker and the threatening emails she'd been getting. And he made the decision. Morelli or not, she was under RangeMan protection again. 24/7.

Their meals came and he put the conversation on hold. He watched with fascination as she ate. He'd ordered chicken and grilled vegetables, but she had noodles and sausage in cheese and cream sauce and she savored every bite. When they were finished he said, "I'm putting RangeMan on you round the clock. I know you and Morelli are living together, but there will still be someone watching you. If you don't like that I have a safe house in Maine and it's nice there this time of year."

"Who would go with me to the safe house in Maine? You?" Their eyes met and he gave a small shake of his head.

"Tank would go."

"Who will follow me here?"

"Tank."

"Well, then I'll stay here. I don't…" Her eyes widened and she stopped speaking as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Carlos, what a surprise."

He turned to look at his mother, "It is a surprise," he said. "I didn't know you were a fan of Marsilio's. Trenton is a little far to come for lunch."

"Well, dear, I'm tempted to say I came to see you, since you've not been home lately. I see Pierre much more frequently than you." She extended her arm over Ranger's shoulder and held her hand out to Stephanie. "I'm Claudia Mañoso and you must be Stephanie."

Stephanie's eyes were wide as she shook his mother's hand. "I've heard so many nice things about you," she told Stephanie.

Stephanie was clearly at a loss for words. "It's nice to meet you," she said. She couldn't return the compliment because until this moment, she'd never considered he had a mother. He could see the shock in her eyes and in spite of himself he was amused. His mother was always a force to be reckoned with.

"Mother, would you like to sit down for a moment?" he asked. "We're done with our meal, but perhaps you'd like to share dessert with Stephanie."

"Oh, I can't eat another thing, but I will sit for a moment." Like magic Bobbie V., the maître d, slid a third chair up to their table and Ranger reconsidered his tip. He'd been hoping she'd refuse. His mother's beautiful silver hair was contained in a tight chignon and her suit was of palest grey. She was dressed for impact and he wondered again what she was doing in a small Italian restaurant in the Burg. As if sensing his question she said, "I came to Trenton to meet with Joe Juniak. He's on the board of directors of the Trenton symphony and we're having a combination fund-raiser for the Trenton and Newark symphonies. After our meeting he insisted on taking me to lunch. This is my first time here, but it was wonderful. We were leaving and I saw you and I just couldn't resist the opportunity to finally meet Stephanie."

"How fortunate you saw us," Ranger said. His mother shot him a look that reminded him to mind his manners and also indicated she knew exactly how happy he was to have been found out.

Claudia Mañoso reached out and covered one of Stephanie's hands with hers and said, "I'm so happy to meet you, Stephanie. Carlos has told me you're a good friend to him. I'll look forward to having him bring you home for dinner sometime." She gave Stephanie's hand a quick squeeze and stood. She leaned over and gave her son a soft kiss on the top of his head. "Make it happen, Carlos. Bring her to dinner." And then she was gone, leaving Stephanie with a surprised look and Ranger with a grimace.

Stephanie asked no questions, just sat and waited for an explanation. He sighed. "I'm sorry if you were embarrassed…"

"No," Stephanie said, interrupting him. "Just surprised. I never thought about you having such a beautiful mother, or about you having a mother at all. And I'm surprised she knows who I am."

"I think she keeps a scrapbook of your newspaper clippings." He smiled at her frown. "My mother is a very determined woman," he continued. "She'd like to see me settled with a wife and children like my brother. She doesn't understand the complexities of my life, because there is a lot about my life I can't talk about."

"There are a lot of people who don't understand the complexities of your life," Stephanie said.

"My mother has a tendency to match-make with disastrous results and when she heard your name, I may have let her think…" he was having trouble finding the words.

Her face flushed and she held up her hand. "Say no more. I understand." He remembered his earlier conversation with Morelli and decided she did understand. Completely.

He held out his hand to her and said, "C'mon, Babe, let's go see if we can get some information on the men of TriBro and find your stalker." She smiled at him and put her hand in his and his mother was completely forgotten.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 26

Las Vegas. Singh was in Las Vegas and Stephanie was going to get him. He told her he couldn't go, that he was not welcome in Las Vegas. At one time it was true. There'd been a small problem with a capture. His attorney had fixed the problem months ago, but still he used it as an excuse. She had to be kept safe, from him, as well as her crazy stalker. The thought of spending a night far from the Burg alone with her was something he wouldn't let himself think about. He didn't trust himself, so he sent Tank.

He hoped catching Singh was simple and they'd be home in a day, but it seemed, with Stephanie, there were always complications. He was staying in Trenton and researching the Cone brothers. He felt sure the answer to the stalker could be found inside TriBro. He was sitting at his desk, trying to concentrate on the data on Bart Cone, the most likely suspect. Tank was busy, following Stephanie, watching her pack for the trip and keeping her safe. It should have been him, but there was a limit to his control and Las Vegas was beyond the limit.

When Tank called from the airport Ranger knew the news would be bad. It was.

"They got on the plane without me," Tank said. "Security flagged me because I had no luggage. Apparently a black man with no luggage ranks high on the terrorist watch list. The next flight I can get will be tomorrow. If things go as planned they should be getting ready to head back home about the time I get there."

"What do you mean, they?" Ranger asked.

"Connie and Lula are traveling with her," Tank said.

"Shit." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I have contacts in Vegas. I'll alert them and set up bodyguards. You might as well stay here."

"Why aren't you going?" Tank asked. "I know there was trouble a few months ago with a skip you brought in, but I thought that was all cleared up."

"It is all cleared up," Ranger said. "I used that as an excuse because I have a meeting that I can't miss, and it's one I don't want to publicize." There was silence on the other end of the line. Ranger knew he didn't have to explain further, but Tank wasn't content to let him off the hook so easily.

"Where you going, and when are you leaving?"

"I don't have any details; all I have is a meeting. What I can tell you is that the possibility exists of a long-term assignment in South America." Again, there was silence and Ranger knew Tank was weighing his words.

"What country?"

"Colombia."

"And I suppose during this long-term assignment I will be in charge of RangeMan again," Tank said. "Not that I mind, but I thought this was your baby. I thought operating a security firm and being able to provide permanent, safe employment for the men you served with was your dream." Ranger didn't respond so Tank continued. "You need to consider retiring from your secondary field of employment, unless you have a death wish." He disconnected and Ranger was left holding his phone, feeling a little surprised that Tank's comments had gotten under his skin. He called Vegas and made arrangements for the protection of Stephanie, Lula and Connie and said a silent prayer that the Vegas operatives would be up to controlling what could so easily turn into chaos.

An hour later Tank was slouched in the chair in front of Ranger's desk. "Do you have things lined up in Vegas?" he asked Ranger.

"Yeah, they're still in the air, but when they land they will be met at the airport and supplied with the equipment they need. She's very capable, but things always go wrong."

"She is capable," Tank agreed. "And she has a remarkable amount of luck. She'll get Singh probably without any problem, as long as Lula and Connie stay out of her way. When is your meeting?"

"Tonight. I'm going to Dix about nine. I'll be given as many details as they see fit. If I say I'll go I will be put on reserve and could be called any time in the next three months."

"It's your choice to make," Tank said. "I signed on for the duration here, and I'll do whatever is necessary. I know enough about your plans for the future of RangeMan to wonder why you'd consider leaving for a long-term assignment. The company is growing faster than you thought it would. I don't think money is your primary motivating factor. What is?"

Ranger lifted an eyebrow in surprise. Money was not his motivating factor. "It's what I do best," he said. It was the truth and it wasn't. He was good at what he did, but there were others as good. His ego wouldn't allow him to verbalize that his time was running out. Age was relative and being in his early thirties meant his time as a functional field operative was limited. They both knew it.

He needed to get a handle on his feelings for Stephanie. She was an unexpected complication and there was no room for her in his plan. He wasn't so arbitrary he couldn't change his plan, but he couldn't change his past life experiences and they would put her in danger. They always struck at the enemy's most vulnerable spot and she could make him very vulnerable, if he allowed it.

Tank sat watching the emotions play over Ranger's face and he felt obliged to say what was on his mind. "I don't watch Morelli because it's my hobby," he said. "I watch Morelli because she's so important to you. I don't pretend to understand why you are pushing her away, or why you are manufacturing excuses to keep her away. That's your business, and although I'd like to, I won't comment on it."

Ranger stared at Tank and wondered if Tank had been holding back since the morning he'd seen him leave Steph's apartment.

"There is another aspect to the special ops business," Tank said. "I know how good you are. I owe my life to you. What happened in Colombia was enough for me. I won't go back for a possible second dose. You're good, but you're not infallible and you need to rethink your motives. You have other responsibilities now that you didn't have when you were on active duty. I can take care of RangeMan, but it's your responsibility. And what about the responsibility you have to Stephanie? You were her mentor. When does that quit? She depends on you, whether you'll admit it or not."

Tank's words were unwelcome to Ranger, because he took his mentoring of Stephanie seriously. He took her stand on casual sex seriously as well, that's why he'd sent her back to Morelli. And now he knew why she'd gone. It didn't seem like the action of a woman who depended on him, but Morelli's comments changed everything.

"She's not sleeping with Morelli," Ranger said. He remembered, well, Morelli's statement that she was staying with him to keep Ranger at a distance. He didn't know if that was because she was upset with him or if she didn't trust herself around him, but either way he chose to ignore it.

"She's using Morelli as a shield against her mother's match-making attempts," he told Tank. "They are not together romantically. Morelli came to RangeMan to make me aware of that, and to ask me to have you cease and desist." He saw the surprise in Tank's eyes at the way he chose to answer the question. It was as close to meaningful conversation as he was going to get. Ranger stood and walked to the door of his office.

"I've got to go," he said to Tank who was comfortably reclined in the chair. "If you like that damned chair so much have Woody order one for your own office."

"Ana bought me one for the house," Tank replied, and he couldn't resist smiling as Ranger slammed the door and left him sitting alone in the office.

Twenty-four hours later Ranger was once again in his office with Tank. He'd had a call from both Stephanie and Morelli. Singh was dead. The stalker had gotten to him before Stephanie had. It was a definite game step-up on the part of the stalker. He was biding his time playing with Stephanie, and Ranger was determined to get him before she was injured. Morelli had similar feelings and he was picking Stephanie up at the airport. They both agreed he'd turn her over to RangeMan in the morning and she wouldn't go unguarded, even for a minute.

"Singh is dead," Ranger said. "Vinnie will get his money so he's happy. And he'll have Stephanie back at work skip-tracing tomorrow. He has a bunch of low-level FTAs he's been holding on to, concentrating his manpower on getting Singh. She'll be busy tomorrow and I want you with her all day."

"I'm assuming she'll have Lula with her," Tank said. "I'll follow close behind. It's always interesting."

"Lula is driving back from Vegas. They recovered Singh's fiancée's dog and Lula is driving across country to deliver the animal. So I need you to work as Steph's partner tomorrow."

"Fine by me," Tank said. "I figured that would be something you'd want to do."

"I've got meetings with my attorney and with Holly," Ranger replied, "and I can't cancel them." He always had meetings with the accountant and with his attorney before he left on a mission.

"You're going then?" Tank asked him.

"I haven't decided," Ranger said, "but I need to be ready, should I choose to go."

The next morning Ranger walked into the bonds office to find Stephanie and Tank sitting side-by-side on the brown couch, concentrating on a folder. They looked up when he came in and Stephanie smiled at him.

"Sorry about your Vegas guys," she said. "Lula didn't realize Salvatore was a RangeMan employee or she never would have tackled him."

The corners of Ranger's mouth turned up slightly. "It's okay, the doctor said he'd only need a month of physical therapy. That must have been some tackle." He shrugged. "Things happen."

"And usually I'm involved," she said on a sigh. "But today I've got Tank. Things will go smoothly, I can feel it." She turned to the big man at her side. "Do you want to drive or ride shotgun?"

Tank's eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch and Ranger smiled at his expression. He knew from previous experience, Tank only rode shotgun to him. Stephanie correctly interpreted Tank's look of astonishment.

"It's the twenty-first century," she told Tank. "Women drive."

"Only in my bed," Tank said. "Never in my car." He shot Ranger a look and smiled when he saw the scowl, knowing Ranger was thinking of his sister. "Not that I'm speaking in specifics," he said, and began the low rumble that erupted into a full-baritone laugh. Stephanie looked from Tank to Ranger and rolled her eyes. She and Tank left the office and Tank was still chuckling when he boosted her up into the passenger seat of the big black SUV.

The call came mid-afternoon. He saw her name on the caller ID and took a deep breath before he answered.

"Yo."

"We got our skip," she said. "But…"

"Who got shot?" Ranger interrupted.

"No one, but Tank's leg is broken. I've called 911."

"Is the RangeMan SUV parked anywhere near you?" he asked.

"Yes, it's just down the street."

"How bad is Tank?"

"It's pretty bad. Butchy fell off the roof and landed right on Tank. Tank keeps saying, 'Just shoot me'."

"Stay where you are," Ranger told her. "The SUV has a tracker and I'll be there as soon as I can." He went into the control room and looked around. He saw Cal and made a quick decision. "Come with me, you're on bodyguard duty as of now."

Ranger and Stephanie stood side-by-side and watched the ambulance disappear around the corner. "I need to go to the hospital and get Tank admitted," Ranger said. "I've asked Cal to follow you around." He followed Stephanie's gaze and took an objective look at Cal, trying to see him through her eyes. He was a big, bald-headed guy, neatly dressed in black jeans and T-shirt. He had his muscle-bound, bulging arms crossed over his massive chest and his tiny eyes fixed on Ranger, waiting for direction.

"Cal has a flaming skull tattooed onto his forehead. And he has muscles in places muscles aren't supposed to grow," Stephanie said, standing on tiptoe and speaking quietly into Ranger's ear.

Ranger pulled her to him and kissed her on the forehead. "You two are going to get along just fine." Ranger stepped back and turned to Butchy, who was sitting cuffed and shackled on the curb. He grabbed Butchy, dragged him to his feet and handed him over to Cal, then he turned and walked back to his Porsche and left for the hospital.

The next call came several hours later. He was in his apartment waiting for the call from the hospital saying they'd released Tank.

"About Cal..." she said. "He's sort of out of commission."

"Used to be you destroyed my cars," Ranger said.

"Yeah, those were the good old days."

"How bad is it?"

"Valerie's water sort of broke on him and he fainted. Bounced his head on the floor a couple times when he went down. Lucky, he was in the hospital when it happened. He was looking a little dopey, so they took him somewhere for testing."

"St. Francis?"

"Yep."

"I'm on my way."

It was well after midnight when he let himself back into his apartment. He walked straight to the kitchen and opened the corner cabinet. He found the seldom used bottle of Glenfeddich and poured himself two fingers of the scotch before he settled into the armchair in the living room. It had been a night of many revelations and he needed to think before he went to bed for a few short hours of rest, before the new day started.

He'd found Cal in the emergency department. The poor guy had been traumatized by his shower of amniotic fluid and the sight of a baby foot protruding from Valerie's vagina. Ranger couldn't blame Cal for passing out. It seemed like the reasonable solution to an unbelievable situation.

He found Tank in another bay of the emergency department, and he wasn't alone. His sister Ana had looked up in surprise as Ranger entered the room. Tank and Ana had been engaged in a lively conversation and he'd stood back and watched. He was an expert at people watching. Reading body language and facial nuances had saved his life more than once. He read something very interesting between Ana and Tank. They didn't have the particular ease that came from intimacy. They weren't lovers. Tank had gone out of his way to imply the opposite to Ranger. Now wasn't the time, but he'd be making time to ask Tank what the hell kind of game he was playing.

Neither Tank nor Cal were being kept overnight and Ranger had called Bobby to come and get the men, because the one person he couldn't find was Stephanie.

He found Morelli, who was also looking for Stephanie and together they found her lying unconscious on a sidewalk near the ER. There was a dead man lying next to her. He knew a moment of terror until he saw her chest rise with a breath. As soon as Morelli realized she was breathing he'd grabbed her gun. It hadn't been fired and Ranger had seen the relief in his eyes. She wasn't the killer, and they both had a good idea who was.

He sipped his scotch and remembered the things Morelli had told him about Stephanie's role in his life. It was obvious he cared for her and Ranger was unconvinced Morelli meant it when he said he was through with her. Between them, the plan had been made. Morelli would take her to his home and then take her to the police station in the morning to get her statement. When the danger from the stalker was over, Stephanie would move back into her own apartment. The thought comforted him and he refused to consider why.

Tomorrow would be his day with Stephanie. Ranger lifted the glass to his mouth and emptied it, relishing the burn down the back of his throat. He'd keep her safe. Keeping her safe was the only important thing.

The day started early. He made a quick stop at Tank's house to see if there was anything his second in command needed, and to see if Ana was in residence. She wasn't. Tank was up and dressed in RangeMan black, the typical cargos replaced by a pair of black sweats. His cast, which extended to just below the knee was black and unwieldy, but the big man was doing a good job of getting around with one crutch.

"Guess I'm on desk duty for the next three weeks, at least," he told Ranger.

"I'll put you with Rodriguez," Ranger said. "He can use the help."

"The hell you will," Tank groused. "I'll take monitor duty and you can send someone else down to Rodriquez."

"We'll argue about that later," Ranger said. "Right now, I've got to get down to Trenton PD and pick Stephanie up." At Tank's questioning look he detailed the previous evening's events for him.

"Suddenly, this broken leg doesn't look so bad when I hear what happened to Cal," Tank said. He pointed to his cast and said, "You know, it wasn't her fault." Ranger made no comment and left Tank to his own devices. He didn't think a cast would keep Tank down for long.

He found Stephanie looking a little worse for wear waiting for him with Morelli close at her side.

"She's all yours for the day," Morelli told him.

Ranger waited until they were in his Carrera and then he turned to look at her.

"You're all mine today, Babe."

"I have things that have to be done," she said. "I need to go to the mall to get my hair fixed. My stalker gave me a lousy haircut last evening." He turned the Porsche toward the mall, a place he normally avoided, but found he didn't mind so much when he was in her company.

Her hair was four inches shorter on one side than the other and it took Mr. Alexander, her hairdresser, almost an hour to turn her impromptu haircut into something symmetrical. When he was finished her hair was short, shorter than Ranger'd ever seen it. It touched her collar in the back and had a wispy charm that gave her face a gamine quality and made her eyes look enormous.

Ranger could see she was uncertain about the reflection staring back at her when she viewed her new haircut. He went and stood behind her, checking her out. "Cute," he said.

"Last time my hair was this short I was four years old."

When they were back in the car she turned to Ranger. "Is it really cute or were you just trying to keep me from shrieking?"

He ran a hand through her hair. "It's sexy," he said. And he kissed her. He didn't think; he just acted. His tongue was in her mouth and she returned the kiss with fervor. He silently cursed the Carrera. If he'd had his truck, he'd have pulled her onto his lap. The urge to have close physical contact with her was overwhelming. His hands were in her hair and he left one at the back of her head while the other trailed down and skimmed over a t-shirt-covered breast. He felt the pucker of her nipple, even through her shirt and bra. And then she pulled back.

"Hey," she said. "We're not supposed to be doing that, it's against the rules."

"Rules change, Babe."

"I'm with Morelli," she said. "You told me to repair my relationship with him. He trusts you with me. You shouldn't betray his trust."

"Morelli trusts me to protect your life and with that I'm trustworthy." He turned the key in the ignition. "Buckle up for safety, Babe. We're on our way to TriBro."

He was quiet as they made their way across town. He wondered if she was baiting him when she'd said she was with Morelli. She had no way of knowing that Morelli'd told him a different story, and he wouldn't tell her of his conversation with Morelli. She'd been adamant that she didn't do casual sex and he couldn't let anything happen between them that could be classified as anything but casual. He'd been an optimist thinking one night would be enough. It was a lose-lose situation.

He pulled into the parking lot of a moving and storage company next to TriBro and shut off the ignition. Their eyes met in a long and steady look before he broke contact and reached into the back seat. He held the small black box in his hand for a moment before opening it.

"I'm going to wire you. I want to make sure you're safe in there."

"You're not going in?"

"No one will talk to you if I'm along."

She raised an eyebrow.

Ranger did the almost grin thing again. "Sometimes people find me to be a little scary."

"No! Shocking. You ever think about losing the gun? Or dressing normal?"

He opened the box and removed a matchbook-size recorder. "I have an image to maintain."

She was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. Ranger looked at her t-shirt for a moment before he reached out to her. "I don't think I need a wire," she said.

He pulled her shirt out of her jeans and slid his hands under the shirt. "You're not going to ruin this for me, are you? I've been looking forward to this." He secured the recorder against her breastbone, just below her bra, with two crisscrossed pieces of surgical tape. The wire with the pin-head microphone ran between her breasts. He saw her head go down to the front of her shirt as he pulled his hands out and smoothed the edge of the t-shirt. He followed her gaze and saw her nipples clearly outlined against her shirt. Their eyes met and held.

"Ready to rock 'n' roll," Ranger said in a gravelly voice. He turned the key in the ignition and spun the Porsche out of the moving and storage lot and into the TriBro lot.

When she came out of the TriBro building she quickly got in the Porsche and ripped the wire off, not giving him a chance to put his hands back under her shirt. It had been wasted time, as far as gathering information went, and Ranger thought maybe his mentoring wasn't quite over.

"We need to discuss interrogation techniques sometime, Babe," he told her.

"It's you. You make me nervous," she told him. He didn't respond, but he knew making her nervous was a sign that she wasn't immune to him, no matter what her stand on casual sex was.

The rest of the day was comprised of business as usual for Stephanie. They brought in an FTA, who shot at them, but missed, and they met with Singh's former fiancée and her mother to tell them the details of Singh's death.

The stalker wasn't as clever as he thought he was, and it was just a matter of time till they caught him. Ranger and Morelli agreed the best way to keep her safe was to let her go on with her life and make sure she was never alone. RangeMan would have Stephanie duty the next day while Morelli was working and then he'd take over and it would continue until they caught the carnation killer, who had Stephanie in his sights.

When Ranger delivered Stephanie back to Morelli's house, Morelli came out on the porch to meet them. There was something about the easy way Morelli threw his arm around her shoulders that unsettled Ranger.

"It's been quiet," Ranger said. "No shooting. No one tailing us. No death threats or poison darts."

Morelli nodded and he and Ranger stood for a moment taking one another's measure. "Your watch," Ranger said to Morelli. And he left. He drove in silence from Morelli's to RangeMan and he wondered. He didn't trust Morelli despite his declaration of his and Steph's non-relationship status.

Ranger walked across the control room floor and was not surprised to see Tank, sitting with a casted leg extended at an unusual angle, in front of a monitor.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Tank.

"My leg hurts like a son-of-a-bitch," Tank said. "It's just as easy to be in pain here as it is at home."

"Your dedication is noted," Ranger said wryly. "As a matter of fact, I'd like to reward your dedication."

Tank looked up at Ranger who was standing close to him. Ranger leaned down and said in a quiet voice, "I want you to continue the surveillance on Morelli. I want to know who he fucks, and who he looks twice at. I want a full-out tail on him and I want to know if he touches Stephanie. You can coordinate the detail, and you can use all our resources."

Tank stood awkwardly and put his arm on Ranger's shoulder to balance. "I'm already on it," he said.

Ranger took the stairs to his apartment. He pulled his key pad and fobbed open the lock. He went directly to the kitchen cabinet and pulled down the bottle of Glenfeddich. He filled his glass and made his way into the living room. They'd catch this motherfucker who was stalking Stephanie, and then Stephanie would move out of Morelli's and back to her apartment. He'd see to it.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.

Chapter 27

They'd had a quiet day and Ranger was waiting. There'd been an extended spell of inactivity, and his military training told him to be patient so he stayed the course, but he thought the time was near.

She was on Morelli's watch and Ranger knew she was safe, and yet something bothered him. He'd taken the precaution of having Cal watch Morelli's house. He'd go off duty at midnight and Ranger would go on. They were going to catch this asshole and then Stephanie's life could return to normal.

Morelli called. It wasn't unusual for Morelli to call. Ranger had talked to the cop more in the last few days of their cooperative protection of Stephanie than he had in his life. There was no reason for his stomach to turn over, but it did. He thought the sound of the phone was ominous. Stephanie was in trouble, he knew it.

"Yo." His greeting belied the cold fear that was winding its way through him.

"He's got her. I think it's Clyde. She was drinking a beer and she just disappeared off the back porch. Your man saw a truck drive out of the alley and he got a partial. I had it double checked against the Cone brothers and it's Clyde's vehicle."

His first thought was that Cal had reported to Morelli instead of him. That was a tactical error that could cost Stephanie her life.

His second thought was Morelli, the dumb fuck, let her go outside to drink a beer. Ranger was astounded, and then he tried to cut Morelli some slack. Stephanie was hard to contain and she bore some of the responsibility. He let it all go. They had to find her. Time for recriminations later.

"How do you want to do this?" he asked Morelli.

"She's either at his house or the factory," Morelli said. "I've got men on the way to her house. I'm betting she's there."

"I'll take the factory." Ranger disconnected and called the control room on five. He knew time was short, so he didn't waste any. Junior was on duty and available, and he and Ranger were on their way to the factory in minutes, appropriately dressed and ready for a fight. Cal checked in with Ranger and told him he was on his way to the factory, per Morelli's instructions. Again, Ranger had to remind himself he'd deal with the chain of command problem later.

Ranger, Cal and Junior arrived at the factory to find it dark. No security lights to illuminate the parking lot, not a dim glow from anywhere inside the building. He recalled the office layout to the best of his ability and was just forming a plan when the gunshots rang out, six of them in rapid succession. Ranger knew instinctively, someone was dead. He caught the night-vision goggles Cal tossed him and the three advanced on the building. Time for finesse was over.

They found her in an office near the factory floor with Clyde lying dead at her feet. She couldn't see him, or them, but she heard them coming. Cal and Ranger sidestepped, but Junior walked into the cloud of pepper spray coming from the canister she was blindly spraying in their direction.

She was a fighter and he was filled with a deep sense of pride that she'd saved herself, mingled with a knee-shaking relief she was still alive. Ranger became aware of Junior bent from the waist gasping for breath and he dove behind the desk to pull Stephanie out. "Hold still," he told her and she did immediately, as she recognized his voice. Cal dragged Junior out of the office and he pulled Stephanie into the unpolluted air of the factory, closing off the office door behind them.

It was over quickly. Morelli had turned the police toward the factory when they'd found Clyde's house to be empty. Clyde had managed to get Lula and Albert Kloughn and had them sequestered in the factory. Ranger wasn't sure why, and Clyde wasn't talking, thanks to six shots in the dark from Stephanie. In the general chaos of the aftermath, Cal and Junior gathered up their equipment and the three men silently slid away. The police would be questioning her for hours, and they would probably want to question the RangeMan personnel as well. Morelli would be calling him, no doubt. But for now he was content to slip away and bask in the knowledge she was safe.

He gave Cal and Junior forty-eight hours off, for a job well done, and waited for Cal's written report. There may have been a reason for taking the information to Morelli first. He was a fair man. If the reason was good he'd cut Cal some slack. If the report showed an error in judgment, Cal would be his sparring partner for a long time, and he'd be closely partnered with Tank or Lester until he was ready to go solo.

His mind turned to the talk he'd had with Tank about responsibilities. RangeMan was growing fast and he was adding new personnel almost every month. He needed to be more hands on, and that might mean hiring an administrative assistant. Tank was right. This wasn't a good time for an extended leave of absence.

The control floor was staffed with the usual minimal overnight crew. Ranger stopped briefly and talked to Hal to assure himself all was quiet, and then he went to seven. He was going to shower and get a good night's sleep with the knowledge she was safe. And then he would wait, because if what Morelli told him about Stephanie was true, she would move out of Morelli's house and back into her own apartment. He was patient, so he would wait.

He waited three months, and she was still with Morelli. Tank had been surveilling Morelli relentlessly and Ranger was dismayed to find he wasn't seeing anyone. Except possibly Stephanie, who continued to make Joe Morelli's house her home. She'd given her apartment to her sister Val and her fiancé, Albert Kloughn, and they were still in residence. If they didn't find a place soon, Ranger was going to contact a realtor.

He'd also been waiting for three months to be sent to Colombia. The call hadn't come which was probably a bad sign. He was almost certain he'd go, but he hadn't quite ruled out the possibility of saying no. He knew those in charge of the op were certain of his acceptance, because he'd never refused an assignment. He had RangeMan business to attend to and he wasn't going to put it on hold. If they needed him and he was unavailable then the decision would be made for him.

His introspection was interrupted by Vince falling through his doorway. He landed with a thud at the base of Ranger's desk and muttered, "What the hell?" Ranger got to his feet and made his way around the desk to assess the damage. Vince sat up slowly and looked around. "I swear I saw a cat," he told Ranger. "I was in a hurry on my way in here and a blur of grey shot in front of me. I tried not to step on it and lost my balance." At the sound of a meow both men turned and looked at the door. The damn cat was smiling, Ranger was sure of it.

Ella's head poked through the door next, "Here you are, Shadow. Time to go upstairs." She gave Vince a puzzled look as he pulled himself up from the floor. "Vince, it's so nice of you to play with Shadow. You're welcome to come to the apartment and see him whenever you want." Her head disappeared from the door and Shadow took off at a trot following her. Ranger remembered when there were no cats at RangeMan. With a sigh of exasperation, he wondered if he left for an extended time and put Tank in charge how many cats would be in residence when he returned.

Vince stood in front of Ranger's desk. "I came in here to tell you Ms. Plum's car just went off the radar. She was on Hamilton, near the Deli-Mart. Right after that, Trenton PD and the fire department were dispatched."

"Any injuries?" Ranger asked, the cat forgotten.

"None that they said," Vince answered.

"I'll be out of the office for a while," Ranger said, and he walked out leaving Vince standing in front of his desk. When he arrived on the scene he saw her immediately and felt immensely relieved. She was standing next to Morelli who was paying less attention to her and more to the still smoldering remains of her yellow Escape. He got out of his Porsche and walked to where she was standing. Morelli turned and saw him and they nodded at one another. Then Ranger turned his attention on her. She looked good. It had been a couple of weeks since he'd seen her. RangeMan business had kept him out of the bonds office, which was mainly where they would run into each other. He didn't stop by Morelli's to see her, ever.

Her hair had grown out quickly in the months since the short haircut and he liked the way it curled around her shoulders. She was wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt that matched her eyes. And her eyes were currently fixed on his. Their gazes stayed locked for a few moments and then Ranger broke the contact. He could see things were under control and he wasn't needed.

"Babe," he said smiling, because she frequently made him smile, and then he walked back to his car.

The next morning Ranger was in the break room getting a bottle of water before he settled down to tackle a huge pile of paperwork. His phone rang as Tank walked into the room.

"You'd better get it," he told Ranger. "It's your mother." Ranger checked the caller ID and a brow rose as he recognized the number.

"Hello, Mother," he said.

"Carlos, I'm so glad I got you. I just spoke with Pierre. I'm having a family dinner Saturday evening. The entire family will be here, and I want you to come," she said.

He mentally checked his calendar. "I'll be there," he said. "What time?"

"Six," she said with no hesitation. "And I'll need Stephanie's number."

"Stephanie!" Ranger did an eye roll he'd learned from Stephanie. "Mother, that's not possible. We are not…together. She's…" He hesitated on two counts. Tank was listening, and if he told his mother Stephanie was living with another man…well, he didn't want to tell her. He knew his mother. She wouldn't be obvious, but there would be an unattached female there. It wouldn't be Tulia, he knew that for sure. But it might be Leida, or someone unknown to him. She would be discreet about her matchmaking. It would just be to even up the numbers for seating. She'd used that line before.

"Carlos? Are you still there?"

"Yes, Mama," he sighed audibly. "Stephanie and I aren't involved. We are just co-workers, and friends."

"I know that, Carlos. What's wrong with bringing your friends to your home for a visit. Pierre is coming. He's Ana's friend. I thought you might like to bring yours."

"I'll ask her, but I can't guarantee her presence," he said.

"That's fine." His mother's disconnect rang in his ear, shortly to be replaced by the sound of Tank's laughter.

He turned to Tank. They were alone in the break room. "My mother says you are invited to the house because you're Ana's friend. I've been led to believe, by you, you're more than a friend. What's going on? Are you sleeping with my sister?"

Tank hesitated and then said, "Not yet." The simple statement was unsettling to Ranger. "Come to my office," he told Tank. "I'd like some privacy for this conversation."

Ranger saw Tank's uneasiness. There was something Tank had been keeping from him and that in itself was unusual enough to cause concern. Ranger didn't have to ask. Tank heaved his shoulders in a big shrug and began talking.

"It started the night of the charity auction. You remember, the night you took Holly Reynolds home and…"

"I remember," Ranger said tersely.

"Ana thinks the world of you, Ranger, but she had a problem she was afraid to tell you about, so she told me. A guy she'd broken up with was creating problems. He was stalking her and she was afraid of him."

"Why the hell would she have been afraid to tell me?" Ranger asked.

"She said you'd been distant with the family ever since you started working to make RangeMan a reality. She was afraid you'd be, well, shit. There's no good way to say this. She asked me if I could spend some time with her and maybe scare this guy off. She said she felt close to me like I was maybe a big..."

He stopped and Ranger finished the sentence for him "Like a big brother? She has a big brother. Two of them as a matter of fact, and one of them is a security expert. She should have asked me."

"How much time have you spent with her recently?" Tank asked Ranger. "She feels as though she hardly knows you anymore. And she was embarrassed, as if the problem was somehow her fault. So I started spending time with her. When we went to Paris I was her bodyguard. She was doing research for her dissertation. Things came to a head over there, when the asshole followed her to Paris. He won't be bothering her anymore, because I took care of the situation. By then we'd just gotten used to spending time together. We are friends now, but maybe we're working on something more. Do you object to that?"

"No. We've had this discussion before," Ranger said, "when you led me to believe there was something between you. What kind of game were you playing at?"

"Ana asked me to let people believe we were seeing each other. She was trying to keep her problem from you and your parents. She was embarrassed and I tried to help her."

Ranger sat in the chair behind his desk and Tank took his usual seat in the Eames chair. They sat quietly both lost in thought. Ranger was perturbed his sister hadn't felt comfortable coming to him, but he was glad she'd gone to Tank. Tank and Ana made an odd couple, but it wasn't his place to judge, and certainly his mother seemed to accept the idea of a relationship between his friend and Ana.

"Can I ask you something?" Tank interrupted Ranger's thoughts. "What's going on between you and Stephanie? Why is your momma so intent on you bringing Stephanie to meet the family?"

"Nothing is going on between Stephanie and me. My mother thinks there is something, because I led her to believe so. It was an attempt to save myself from her matchmaking and it has backfired, mightily."

"You care about her, Rangeman. I know you do."

Ranger looked at Tank and said, "You were right about my responsibility to Stephanie. It's ongoing. I want to help her gain skills and I want her to succeed at her job. And I like her. That's what's 'going on' with me and Stephanie."

"You care for her, but you back off. Why is that?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ranger asked, his voice rising. "I can't have a relationship with anyone. The life I've chosen precludes it. My sister went to you for help instead of me because I've been remote. If I bring Stephanie into my life it will endanger her. I have enemies."

"So you pull back from family and friends to keep them safe?" Tank asked.

"Yes."

"Who?"

Ranger frowned at him and so Tank repeated himself. "Who are your enemies? I would have said the Ramos family might try to use Stephanie to get at you, but you've got them cold. You called the note Alexander sent to you insurance and that's what it is. They won't bother you."

"It's more than the Ramos'," Ranger said. "You know as well as I, there are people in foreign governments who want revenge for things I have done in the name of this country."

"I know going back to Colombia is not a good idea," Tank said. "I think you run the risk of making more enemies each time you go, but I think you can't refuse because you have some misguided belief it's your responsibility to save the world. I think you pull back from your family so you can continue to work the ops and then after the ops you have to pull back from your family. It's a circle."

"And what university did you get your psychology degree from?" Ranger growled.

"I don't have a psychology degree," Tank said. "But I've spent a lot of time with people who do, and I don't think it would hurt you to spend some time with them either. It's called personality isolation disorder and it's a symptom of PTSD." Tank stood and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He took out a business card and tossed it on Ranger's desk and then he walked through the door and across the room to the stairwell.

Ranger looked down at the card on his desk. _Edward Johnson, M.D. Specialist in the treatment of PTSD and Adjustment Disorder. _He sat motionless, unsettled at the conversation he'd just had with Tank. Tank, the man who knew him better than anyone, thought he was suffering from PTSD. He picked up the card and wondered at Tank's implication that he'd undergone treatment. He'd never before considered he had a problem. He'd confessed to Tulia once that he was crazy because of what he'd done and seen, but deep down he thought he had it all under control. Now he'd have to reconsider, because he trusted Tank's opinion on everything, and Tank thought he was crazy.

His office phone buzzed and he picked it up. "It's Binkie, boss. We've got Ms. Plum's car, the blue Buick on the grid. She's on Comstock, right in the middle of Slayer land. She wasn't moving for a while, but now she's just turning off Comstock and heading down Hamilton. It looks like she's heading to her cousin's bonds office."

"Keep watching her," Ranger instructed. He felt the sudden need to get out of the office. He went to the garage and bypassed the Mercedes and the Porsche. He opted for his Ford F-150 FX4. He got in, buckled up and headed for the bonds office where he knew he'd find Stephanie.

He walked in the bonds office to see Stephanie standing near Connie's desk with a brown folder open in her hands. She was intensely scrutinizing the contents and didn't hear or see him come in. He settled his hand at the base of her neck and he leaned into her. It had been a while and it felt good to be in contact with her.

"Babe," he said, softly, his right arm snaking around her to take the file from her hand. "Eugene Brown," he read. "You might not want to spend a lot of time with Eugene. He's not a fun guy."

"I sort of bounced him off the hood of the Buick today," she told Ranger. "But it wasn't my fault."

"On Comstock?" he questioned. She nodded.

Ranger tightened his hold on her neck. "You want to be careful with Eugene. He hasn't got much of a sense of humor, Babe."

"I don't suppose you know the identity of the devil guy who's robbing all the deli-marts?"

"Don't suppose I do," Ranger said. "But it's not Eugene. There'd be more bodies on the floor if it was Eugene."

Ranger dropped the Brown file on Connie's desk and turned to Stephanie. "I want to talk to you... outside." He put his arm around her waist and pushed her through the door in front of him and then around the corner. They made their way down the alley and he turned her to lean against the wall. He leaned into her, holding her still with his pelvis and legs. One hand was on either side of her head. "I need a favor, Babe."

"Sure, what can I do?" she said without hesitation. "Do you have another car to repossess? Do you need to use me for a distraction?"

Ranger smiled. "I do need you for a distraction. I need you to distract my mother. She's invited you to dinner with the family Saturday night. If you don't come she will find someone she considers eligible and arrange it so we sit next to one another. She knows you and I work together and that we're friends, but she suspects there's more and she wants you to be there. Will you come with me?"

Stephanie was quiet for a moment and Ranger wondered if she was remembering all the match-ups her mother had made for her. "Yes," she said simply. "I'll come," Ranger leaned in even closer to her. His hips slowly pressured her as he gently rocked them from side to side against her. And then his mouth met hers. She didn't resist and he took full advantage, letting his tongue part her lips and taste the sweetness that was Stephanie. One kiss morphed into another and they were both breathless when they separated from one another. He wouldn't be touching her like that at his parents' house. He had to remember in front of his mother's sharp eyes they were just co-workers and friends.

His hands stayed in place against the wall framing her head as he pushed his body back from the wall and Stephanie. He watched her compose herself after their kiss. Her eyes stayed on him and he realized she was doing the same thing. He thought about warning her about his mother, but he stayed silent. Stephanie was intuitive and genuine and his mother would be surprised by her. Claudia Mañoso was a strong determined woman, but so was Stephanie. He considered Stephanie's gene pool, remembering the determination her mother had to pair her with Morelli. Her granny was way left of center, in a way that was scary and charming in equal parts. He smiled. His mother may have met her match.

"Ranger," Stephanie said. "About your mother suspecting we're more than friends and co-workers, is she right?"


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Many of you have expressed the desire for me to continue this story through book 18…I can't do it! Starting with the events in book 10, I am putting my own spin on things. Instead of winding my storyline through the plots of the books, I am winding some of JE's fabulous dialogue in and out of my scenes. This is the part of the story where we start the journey to the HEA. As always I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 28

"Ranger, about your mother thinking we are more than friends and co-workers, is she right?"

Ranger stepped back from Stephanie and took her hand. She moved from the wall and they began walking slowly toward the entrance of the alley. His arm slid around her shoulders naturally, and he matched his steps to hers. "I care about you," he said. "I knew the night we spent together would be good, but it turned out so far beyond good I can't describe it, but Babe, nothing has changed." She stopped abruptly, and looked up at him for an explanation. "I can't do the relationship thing. My life is complicated and I can't give more than I've given. I wouldn't mind giving it again, but time in your bed is as far as it can go. And you've said you can't do casual sex, so I don't know where it can go from here."

She looked at him searching for some expression of emotion. He wore his blank face.

"The next day, after, when Hector installed my new lock, when I said I couldn't do casual sex, do you remember what you said?" she asked him. He thought for a moment and then as he heard her say it, it came back to him.

"You said, 'What part did you think was casual?'"

"I also said you should repair your relationship with Morelli, and you must have listened because you're living with him." He waited for her to tell him she and Morelli weren't together romantically, but she said nothing. "Stephanie, I love you, but it's not the kind of love that can lead to commitment. That sounds selfish, but it's the way it is. I'll call my mother and tell her you can't make it. I'd be using you, and that's not fair to you." He reached out a hand and ruffled her hair and turned to walk toward his truck.

"Ranger," Stephanie called after him. "I want to come to dinner. Curiosity alone makes me want to meet your family. Your mother seems like a nice person, and it's okay. I can handle the friends and co-worker thing. Call her and tell her I'll be there." He nodded and once again started to walk away.

"Wait," she said, walking quickly to his side. "I'll be at my mother's that afternoon. You can pick me up there, and what should I wear? Do I need to be dressed up?"

He shook his head. "We don't dress for dinner. Casual is fine." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Casual is what it has to be, Babe." He turned and walked to his truck and he didn't see her chin come up or her shoulders straighten.

When he walked up her parents' sidewalk he felt a brief twinge of something he wouldn't identify as nervousness. He'd checked his appearance in the mirror carefully before he exited the vehicle. He was acting like he was on a fucking date, and he hadn't been on a date since… his steps faltered… _Never_. He'd never been on a 'call the girl up and make plans' date. His thoughts were diverted by the sight of Edna in the doorway looking at him like he was dessert. She pushed open the screen door and called to him.

"Come on in, Ranger. I almost didn't recognize you. I never seen you in anything but black." He looked down at his faded comfortable jeans, which he rarely wore anymore, and the white shirt. His mother wouldn't approve of him dressing in black because she knew it was the RangeMan uniform, and while he'd told Stephanie they didn't dress for dinner, they didn't come in work clothes either. Edna placed her hand on the small of his back and encouraged him to step through the door. Granny or not, he readied his hand to prevent any further slide of hers, but it was unnecessary.

"Have a seat in the living room, while Stephanie finishes getting ready. She had a little delay. We only got the one bathroom in this house and lunch didn't agree with Frank, so she's a little behind schedule. I don't know why she came over here to get ready anyway. She had to bring all her stuff from Joe's house." It fell under the category of too much information, but her monologue kept him from having to make conversation.

The last was an interesting and telling comment. He'd wondered if she'd told Morelli she was having dinner with his family. This must have been her way of avoiding the issue and maybe making it easier for him. The two men had a grudging respect for one another professionally, but they frequently didn't see eye to eye regarding Stephanie. He wouldn't have liked the thought of picking her up at Morelli's. On the other hand, looking at Steph's granny perched on the arm of the chair across from him, her eyes roaming over him from head to foot and then back up to stop in the middle, made him rethink his position on picking her up at Morelli's.

She came down the stairs and he forgot about the grandmother. She was wearing a simple blue sweater with a pair of white capris. A cloud of fragrance surrounded her, floral with a deeper spicy scent that lingered. It was her signature scent and it made him think of the night. He saw her eyes widen as she took in his clothing. "I don't think I've ever seen you in anything but black," she said. Her cheeks flushed and he knew she was thinking her statement wasn't true. She'd seen him in nothing at all. His erection was immediate and uncomfortable against the fly of his jeans. They needed to leave before he made a fool of himself. As he stood he glanced down to see if his condition was as obvious as it felt. Not as noticeable as he'd expected. He stood and walked toward the door with her. When he turned to pull the door closed behind them he noticed Edna's gaze focused directly on his fly, and she had a sly half-grin on her face. He pulled the door shut with a snap and then wondered if he should go back in and thank her. Her smile had gone a long way toward easing the problem.

He opened the car door for her and then went around and slipped in behind the wheel. He felt like a geeky kid on a first date wondering if he'd get lucky with a goodnight kiss at the evening's end. He turned the key in the ignition and the soft strains of Moonlight Sonata filled the car. He reached out and hit the off button before she could protest. He knew it wasn't her taste in music.

"Should I be nervous about this evening?" she asked.

Yes. "No, my family is very ordinary," he told her. "My mother is convinced there is more to you and me than I've said, and it's entirely my fault. At one time I told her I was involved with someone so she would quit her matchmaking. When she asked me who, I gave her your name. It was shortly before Stiva's burned down and she's been aware of your existence since that point. I don't think she'll make you uncomfortable. If she does, let me know. I'll put a stop to it."

"Mothers can be difficult sometimes," Stephanie said. "My mother used to warn me to stay away from the Morelli boys, and now she wants Joe and I married."

"What about you?" Ranger asked. "Do you want Joe and you married?"

"At the moment, no." Stephanie squirmed under her seatbelt and angled her body toward him. "There have been moments when I did, but they didn't last too long, and lately I'm not having those moments much anymore." He took his eyes off the road for second to turn and look at her. He wanted to ask if what Morelli had told him was true, but she didn't meet his gaze and continued with her story. "After my apartment got firebombed and I moved in with him, I thought getting married sounded like a good idea. He wasn't so convinced. Then he wanted to and I pulled back. We have trouble getting on the same page."

Ranger listened, but didn't say anything. If he was to believe Morelli, there was nothing between them. Tank had been watching him closely and there had been no other woman. He'd never known Morelli to be celibate for three months and he wondered if what Morelli had said was still true. Maybe time had changed his mind and they were together again. It would be hard living in the same house and not be tempted. It would just take one moment of weakness on both their parts. He turned his mind away from Morelli and Stephanie with an effort and tried to focus on his driving. They were silent for a time.

"How do you do that?" Stephanie asked.

He turned his head slightly and raised a questioning eyebrow. "You go into a zone," she said. "It's like some Zen state where you just shut down all outside influences and concentrate on your driving."

"I'm trying to be accident-free, Babe. It lowers my insurance premiums."

"Is that a dig about me destroying your cars?" she asked.

He gave her the two-hundred watt smile, "Babe." She stuck her tongue out at him and turned back in her seat. She sat looking forward, with her hands primly in her lap. Her stillness didn't last long. She twisted in her seat and looked out the back window. He watched as she checked her side mirror.

"Problem?" he asked.

"No, I was just looking to see if we were being followed by a RangeMan vehicle. You don't usually go anywhere without back-up."

"It's dinner with my family," Ranger said, amused by her assumption he didn't travel alone. "Not a take-down on Stark Street. I'll have back-up nonetheless. Tank is coming to dinner."

"Tank?" she sounded pleased and surprised.

"Yes," Ranger told her. "He and my sister are seeing one another. And don't be surprised when my mother calls him by his given name, Pierre."

"Pierre?" she said, sounding even more surprised.

"Pierre," Ranger confirmed. "But you should call him Tank. Even I'm afraid to call him Pierre. My mother is the only one brave enough."

"That's nice, about Tank and your sister, I mean. I'll know someone besides you then. That's a comforting thought."

"After tonight, you'll know all the Mañosos," he told her. "I won't be the man of mystery anymore."

The ding of her cell phone caused her to lose momentary interest in the conversation. She rummaged through her purse and found her phone. "It's a text from Valerie. They're making an offer on a house. I hope they get it. I'm ready to move back home."

"You'd move out of Morelli's?" Ranger asked her.

"Joe and I never planned for it to be permanent," she said. "Things are…complicated between us right now." Ranger didn't comment. He thought he knew what she was talking about. Things might get more complicated when she moved out, because he knew he wouldn't stay away from her, and he didn't know if she would be strong in her intent to keep him away.

He turned the car off the roadway into a small lane and pulled up to a high wrought iron gate. He rolled his window down and reached out to enter a code on a keypad installed on a stone pillar at the side of the lane. The gates swung open and he pulled the Porsche through. He saw her take in the houses which sat on large lots, far back from the road.

"You never told me you were rich," she said.

"My parents are rich," he replied.

"Do you live with them?" she asked.

He snorted. "No. I live in Trenton."

"In a vacant lot," she stated. He looked over at her in surprise. "Well, that's what Connie says," she told him. "Connie says the address on your driver's license is a vacant lot."

"So, there is still some mystery Connie and Lula haven't uncovered?" He gave a short laugh. "I live in an apartment, Babe. I also run a security company. The information available about me through common search programs is limited, purposefully. After tonight you will know more about me than I usually share. My sisters are probably lying in wait to tell you all the mysteries of Carlos Mañoso." And they're probably going to try and pry information from you. He didn't say it, but he knew it was true.

The conversation was brought to an end when he swung the car off the road and into the mouth of a long curved driveway. And he was glad to abandon the conversation. He had an almost unreasonable desire to keep Stephanie ignorant of the RangeMan offices and his apartment. He'd dodged a bullet by their timely arrival to his parents' home. As he turned off the ignition, she asked, "You have sisters? I've only heard of one, Celia."

"I have four sisters," he said surprising her. "Celia is the oldest and she's a neurosurgeon. Maria is a year younger and she is a professor of Art History at Princeton. My sister Rosa is a novitiate at the Convent of the Carmelites in Miami. Rosa and I were close growing up as she was my protector against my other two older sisters, but she won't be with us tonight. We see her rarely. My brother Ramon is two years younger than me and the only sibling who has had the decency to present my parents with grandchildren. He works in finance, and manages my father's money. My younger sister Ana is still in school and when she's finished she will work with my father in his import business. And me, I'm the black sheep of the family. I wanted to be a soldier."

"So, you didn't go to college?" she asked him.

"I did. My parents were adamant that all their children receive a college education. I went to Rutgers for two years and then joined the Army."

"Your parents weren't upset when you dropped out?" she asked.

"I didn't drop out. I worked hard and graduated in two years with a degree in romance languages."

"Romance?" Stephanie said.

"Yes. Romance languages. Languages that have their base in Latin, not to be confused with the language of love, at which I also excel." She looked over at him, startled, and then laughed as she saw his smile. He was teasing her, trying to put her at ease for the trial by fire she was getting ready to go through.

He leaned in intending to kiss her briefly and she pulled back. "Remember, Ranger, friends and co-workers."

He sighed. "Better call me Carlos tonight, Babe. It will make my mother happy. She disapproves of street names." He swung open the door and prepared to face the evening.

As they approached the front door it opened and his mother stood in the doorway. "Welcome, Stephanie," Claudia Mañoso said, and she stepped forward to wrap Stephanie in a hug. Ranger watched Stephanie stiffen for just a moment before she melted into the embrace. He'd been around her family enough to know they weren't the hugging type. Maybe he should have warned her.

When his mother released Stephanie he stepped forward and swept his mother up off her feet. He did it always to hear her immediate response, "Carlos, put me down this instant."

He leaned his head down and whispered in her ear. "Play nice, Mama." It was said in a joking fashion, but he was serious. His mother respected his boundaries, for the most part, but he felt the need to remind her. Claudia regained her balance as her son set her back on her feet. She reached out and took Stephanie's hand.

"Let me introduce you to the family," she said and she led Stephanie into the foyer. Ranger followed at a short distance and watched as his mother, time and time again, introduced Stephanie with the modifier, "this is Carlos' _friend._" By the time the last introduction was made there was no doubt in anyone's mind that they were lovers. He should have warned her. When it was Tank and Ana's turn to be introduced, she said, "Of course, Stephanie, you know Ana's _friend_, Pierre."

"Yes," Stephanie said. "We do know one another. It's nice to see you again, Pierre. I see your leg has healed nicely. I still feel badly about that."

"You shouldn't feel bad about it," Tank said. "It wasn't your fault, Bomber."

"Bomber?" Ana questioned.

"Bomber," Tank said. "Short for Bombshell Bounty Hunter, because so many things blow up in her presence." Stephanie frowned at Tank and Ranger came up behind her.

"I warned you," he said softly into her ear. "My mother is the only one who gets away with calling him by his given name."

The joking broke the unease of the introductions and it wasn't long before the conversation was flowing naturally. Ranger realized it was getting close to meal time and his brother had yet to make an appearance. "Where's Ramon?" he asked.

"He had to cancel," Celia said. "The twins have strep throat." Ranger groaned because there would be no other male presence to attract his sisters' attention. They wouldn't pick on Tank, as he was a guest. Ranger had grown up with his sisters prying into every area of his life and they'd never gotten out of the habit. He waited for one of them to cross the line, but to his surprise it didn't happen. He didn't smother Stephanie, but he stayed close, listening with amazement at her easy conversation with his family.

When it was time to eat his father escorted her into the dining room, where she was seated first as the guest of honor. Tank was a guest too, but he'd apparently spent enough time with Ana, he was not the center of attention. There was no sign of the help that sometimes served dinner. His mother liked to cook for her family and typically used the domestic staff only for more formal entertaining. Ranger was glad to see this, because he noticed Stephanie taking everything in and knew there would be questions on the ride home.

His sister Celia helped his mother serve the dinner and as the family sat around the table he remembered dinner with the Plums. The two scenarios weren't really so different. Both dinner settings were about family coming together, but he doubted the conversation at this table would be as entertaining as the one he'd sat through at the Plums. His granny wasn't present and he didn't think any family had a match for Edna.

His sisters had a way of monopolizing the conversation with stories of their work and Ranger was okay with that, because he wouldn't talk about RangeMan in any detail. Both of his older sisters had important careers and apparently no man in their lives, and their mother seemed to accept their choices. He didn't understand why she thought his life was incomplete without a woman, and then he backtracked. He knew. His mother longed for more of him. She wanted him to visit more often and she worried about his career choice. Maybe if he taught art history or was a surgeon she wouldn't have mandated the presence of a date for him. He realized the family was staring at him and he had apparently missed a comment directed toward him.

"Well?" his sister Ana asked him. He was at a loss, having no idea what she was asking him.

"I can answer that," Stephanie said and shot him a brief smile. She was rescuing him. "He loves his Porsche. I destroyed his last one and it didn't take him long to replace it."

"I want one, then," Ana said. "When I finish school I'm going to buy myself a Turbo just like yours, Carlos." She turned to Tank. "And then we can tour the countryside in my little sports car. We'll take it to Louisiana to visit your mother!"

That had Ranger's interest. Tank was going to introduce Ana to his Momma. And then Tank's next words shocked him into full attention on the conversation.

"I'm not sure about that, Ana," Tank told her. "We might have to take my truck for our road trip. I'm claustrophobic and I don't do well in small places. Elevators bother me and small cars make me very nervous. Maybe you should buy an Escalade."

"I never realized you were claustrophobic," Ana said. "They say sometimes phobias are caused by a single incident. What made you claustrophobic?"

Tank shot a quick look at Ranger. "I've always been that way. Maybe it's because I'm big and don't generally fit comfortably into normal sized spaces."

That wasn't why and both Ranger and Tank knew it. He couldn't believe Tank had mentioned his claustrophobia. Without exception, he never talked about it…until now when he'd causally mentioned it at the dinner table. Once again their eyes met across the table and Ranger got the message. Tank was telling him, 'Stay out of Colombia.'

They'd gone in publicly and then Tank and Ranger had begun their real mission. Ostensibly, they were training the Colombian army in capture techniques, but their unpublicized mission was to locate and eliminate two brothers who headed a rising drug cartel. The Intel had been bad and they'd been captured. Their captivity lasted six days and on the sixth night they'd made their escape and achieved their goal during the escape.

For six days they'd been buried alive in a small metal box barely big enough for the two of them. That's when Tank's claustrophobia had begun. They had an oxygen supply that was regularly occluded and just when they thought their death was imminent the air would come seeping back in. And then the door would open and they would be dragged out and up a narrow stairway for questioning and torture. Then they would be thrown back into their prison with just enough water and bread to keep them alive until the next round. Tank was kept sane by Ranger's unending attempts to keep Tank occupied on forming a plan for escape. At the end of the sixth day Tank had turned on his captors and walked straight into the barrel of a gun, preferring to die by a bullet rather than face more time in their underground metal box. By some gift of fate, he wasn't shot and managed to get control of the automatic weapon. His unlikely bid for freedom was successful and the brothers had been killed in the skirmish. It wasn't something Ranger could remember with detail and he suspected Tank had missing memory as well, but one thing was certain. The incident had welded an unbreakable bond between the men, and it was why Tank's allegiance to Ranger was closer than that of blood. Ranger forcibly turned his attention to the dinner table conversation, and as his focus came back to the present he saw Tank giving him a long look.

The conversation turned to food and Stephanie complimented his mother. She'd outdone herself with roasted pork and vegetable paella, normally his favorites. He was aware he hadn't even tasted the food. He'd been on autopilot, eating simply for fuel as he so often did. He admired Stephanie's ability to savor her food. When the dessert plates were brought to the table by his sister he smiled. Tres leche cake. He doubted Stephanie had ever had it before and he anticipated her pleasure.

She was circumspect, trying not to embarrass herself in front of his family, but he was attuned to her. He heard the mostly muffled moans of pleasure as she tasted the sweet cake. He ate his own cake, bite by bite with her and found himself enjoying his own dessert as well as enjoying her experience. Once again there was the discomfort against the fly of his jeans and he was grateful he would be sitting at the table a little longer. There was no granny here, but there were sharp eyes and he'd like to keep his reaction to himself.

"Carlos." His father's deep voice commanded attention. "You've been quiet tonight. Is your mind elsewhere? Problems at work, possibly?"

"No," Ranger said. He jumped at the excuse his father gave him. "Not problems, but work is on my mind. I meant to tell you earlier, since Mama was so upset last time I left and didn't tell her. I'll be out of town for the next several weeks. If you need to get hold of me the easiest way is to contact Tank."

"Carlos! Again?" His mother's voice was steady, but the expression in her eyes told a different story.

"No," he said. "I am going out of town on RangeMan business. I will be in Boston for a week and then in Atlanta. We've hired a new office manager in Atlanta and we have some potentially lucrative contracts with the Federal government. I just need to be hands-on for a while to make sure everything is running as I wish it."

He looked at Tank who nodded once. Tank knew the trip was coming, but not when. Ranger had made the decision during dinner. He had a lot to think about and he knew he would think better if he was distant from Trenton. The mention of claustrophobia from Tank had taken him back to Colombia, to a time he didn't normally think about, and he knew he had to rethink the upcoming mission. And he remembered the card Tank had dropped on his desk. That was something to consider, too.

When the meal was over Ranger made their excuses saying he had to leave early the next day. In reality he wanted to leave, to spend some time alone with Stephanie. His family had treated her well, not subjecting her and him to embarrassing stories of his childhood, or to uncomfortable questions about their 'friendship'. All in all, the evening had gone well and he wanted to quit while he was ahead.

His mother walked them to the door and handed Stephanie a small container. "It's an extra piece of cake," she told Stephanie. "I noticed you enjoyed it."

Stephanie's cheeks bloomed pink and she accepted the cake. "Thank you, it was delicious." Ranger reached out to hug his mother good-bye. His mother's eyes were focused on him and she was smiling. Yes, there were sharp eyes here. They were silent as Ranger made his way out of the gated community. When they pulled onto the main road he turned on the CD and Moonlight Sonata filled the car. He wasn't ready to answer questions yet. They listened in silence as he drove. When the first movement was over he pushed the power button and the car was silent.

"That was nice," she said.

"That was Beethoven," he responded, giving her a small smile. "Am I taking you back to your parents'?" he asked.

She hesitated. "I guess it would be okay to drop me at Joe's." He nodded and knew he'd been right. She had him pick her up at her parents' house to avoid the awkwardness that would have come from him picking her up at Morelli's.

"Can I ask you a question, Ranger?"

"You just did, Babe." Here it comes. The questions about his family background, his complicated life that precluded relationships, and a hundred other questions he didn't want to answer.

"Are you really going to visit the other RangeMan sites, or do I need to watch CNN?"

"Babe?"

"Lula said the last two times you've been out of town the government of a Central American country collapses." Ranger was startled by her statement. He'd be in South America, but it was so close to what would be the truth if he accepted the Colombian mission, he was momentarily speechless. He wouldn't underestimate Lula in the future.

"It's really RangeMan business, Babe." This time.

He pulled the Porsche to a stop two houses down from Morelli's and she gave him a questioning look. "I don't want Morelli to flip the porch light on and off like an angry parent if I keep you in the car too long," he told her. "I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. Stay away from Eugene Brown. I was serious when I said he wasn't a nice guy. And call Tank if you need transportation or anything else." His hands reached out to cradle her head and he let his fingers tangle in her hair. He didn't have to pull her toward him, she leaned.

Their mouths met with equal fervor and her lips parted for him immediately. He broke away when his breath was gone and he bit softly on her lower lip. She moaned and he was afraid he'd explode in his car. They pulled back at the same time both seeming to realize they'd gone as far as they should go. He shifted into gear and pulled up in front of Morelli's house. As she opened the door to slide out he touched her sleeve. She looked at him and saw he was holding a small container.

"Don't forget the cake, Babe." She took it from him silently and slipped out of the car. He watched as she let herself in the front door. If Morelli took a good look at her, he'd know what had been going on in the car. It would probably upset him and that gave Ranger a small sense of satisfaction. The only satisfaction he'd get that night.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit**

Chapter 29

Tank emailed him every day with RangeMan updates and management decisions he didn't want to make on his own. They were both busy and it was easier to communicate by email instead of phone. So when Ranger's phone woke him at midnight and he saw Tank's name on the caller ID he had one thought. Stephanie. And he was right.

Tank started out with a simple statement. "Stephanie called and said she needed to borrow your truck today."

"Is she injured?" Ranger asked, assuming the truck was now history.

"She's fine, and so is your truck. But there has been an interesting development. She's here."

"Where?" Ranger questioned. He didn't know if Tank meant in Trenton or at Tank's apartment.

"She's at RangeMan. On seven. In your apartment, to be more specific."

Ranger was silent and Tank waited patiently on the other end of the line. Finally he asked, "How did she get to RangeMan?" It seemed a silly question, but Ranger couldn't wrap his mind around what he was hearing.

"She asked to use the truck, midday," Tank said. "I set her up to be tracked because I thought you'd want that. She went about her usual business and made a stop off at Morelli's late in the afternoon. Lester was on the monitors when it happened and he called me. We've kept it pretty quiet so far."

"When what happened?" Ranger was terse. He didn't like having the bad news delivered in bite-sized pieces.

"She pulled up to the garage gate in your truck, and stayed parked there for a minute. She flashed a mag-lite around and took a good look at the inside of the garage. Then she fobbed the gate open, but she didn't drive in. She backed out. It was about that time Lester called me. I was just getting ready to leave and things were quiet around here. We tracked the truck to a place on the street about two blocks up. And then she appeared on foot back at the gate. She fobbed it open, came down the ramp and ran across the garage floor and into the elevator. She stopped on every floor except five and six, probably because they were lit, and then she went to seven. I went up to seven and she wasn't in the lobby."

"She's in my apartment?" Ranger asked.

"Yeah, she is now. She stayed just a few minutes the first time, and then she left the same way she came in. She returned carrying a laundry basket and a rat in a glass cage, and she went back up to seven."

"Rex."

"What?"

"Rex, her pet. He's a hamster, not a rat. It sounds like she's moving in. What happened with Morelli, and how'd she find the building and figure out the fob?"

"Nothing happened with Morelli," Tank said. "And as for the building, it's not a secret, is it?"

"No, but I've never told her about it."

"She's a smart lady, Ranger, and it doesn't exactly take a rocket scientist to figure out a key fob. You want me to go evict her?"

"No. Let her stay. She must think she's sliding in under the radar. Tell the staff Ms. Plum is staying on seven and she is to be undisturbed. Let her stay as long as she wants. Something isn't right somewhere. Keep me posted." He disconnected and walked to stare out the window of his Atlanta RangeMan apartment.

It was smaller and much less elegant than his apartment at Haywood. Atlanta could use a dose of Woody, but Woody was too busy with RangeMan security duties to go back to playing designer. He thought he wouldn't sleep and wondered if he should get in the Mercedes and head for Trenton. He had work here and if he could finish it he wouldn't need to make another trip down for a while.

Stephanie was in his apartment. Stephanie was in his bed. He'd tried hard to keep her out of his personal space because he needed a place that was sacrosanct. A place where there was no memory of Stephanie Plum. A place where he could immerse himself in work, or sleep, and for a while lose the ache he lived with. And now she'd invaded his private lair. The place she called the bat cave. She was sleeping in his fucking bed. He turned from the window and went to the bathroom. A cold shower was his only option.

Tank called again the next evening. "She left early this morning and now she's back. I did a little checking and she's got the Slayers riled up. She identified the Red Devil. His name is Anton Ward and there is a warrant for his arrest. So far they haven't found him, but the gang is looking for Stephanie."

"That's not good news. Who do you have on her?"

"Bobby and Lester. I'll take my turn when I can, but, as you know, I've got other business to attend to right now."

"Do I need to come home?" Ranger asked.

"No. She's staying in a group and not setting herself up as a target, and Morelli is watching her, too. It's just an assumption, but I think she's hiding out at RangeMan because she doesn't want to endanger her family. She's been to see her mother and she's been parking a block away and entering through the back door. That's not typical, is it?"

"No. Make sure she has free access to come and go. And tell Ella to stay away from my apartment. The last thing I need is for my mother to find out she's staying there."

The next evening's call brought news that was even more disturbing. "It's just a rumor," Tank told him. "We can't verify it, but the Slayers are putting out the word there's a contract on Stephanie. And also, she's no longer driving the truck. She's driving a purple Lincoln Town Car with stolen plates."

Ranger set his phone on the desk in front of him and hit speaker. He cradled his head in his hands. He did and didn't want to know. "What happened to the truck?" he asked.

"It's parked in the Plum family garage."

What the fuck is going on? "I'm coming home."

"No need, Rangeman. _I'm_ on her now, from the time she leaves the building until the time she comes back in the evening. She's safe while she's here and she's been taking precautions during the day. She's using good judgment. One other thing. It took Morelli two days after Stephanie moved out. He had overnight company last night."

"Terry Gilman?" Ranger didn't even know why he was asking. He couldn't give a rat's ass about Morelli, but Tank's answer surprised him nonetheless.

"Robin Russell, Trenton P.D." They disconnected and Ranger went from the apartment to the director's office. He'd work around the clock if necessary. He needed to be back in Trenton.

"More interesting news," Tank said the next night. "She's back in the truck and she's taken to wearing your clothes. She's wearing a black hoodie of yours and I think she's wearing Kevlar under it. I had a call from Morelli today. He was trying to get hold of you, and although he didn't ask me, I think he wanted to ask for help. He's very concerned. He doesn't know where she's staying and he said if he could get hold of her he'd put her in protective custody."

"Did you tell him she was at RangeMan?" Ranger asked.

"I told him nothing," Tank said. "But he gave me some unsettling information. The contract is a reality. The Slayers have brought in some west coast talent. He's got three targets on his list and Stephanie is number three. He's already tapped number one on the list, a rival gang member. They found the guy in pieces."

"I'll be home tomorrow night," Ranger said. "I'll leave around noon and drive straight through."

"You want me to tell her?" Tank asked.

"No, don't say anything. If she knows I'm coming she's likely to leave and she's safest there."

"One more thing," Tank said, and Ranger steeled himself for the worst.

"You may not want to hear this, but I have to say it. You said you had enemies, and that you couldn't get close to her because it would endanger her. Well, she's doing pretty fucking good on her own. You've got the goods on Ramos so he shouldn't figure into things. Besides, when Alexander Ramos did meet her, he proposed. More likely he'd use you to get to her."

"The ops you work might be a cause for concern, but the answer is simple," Tank continued. "Quit doing them and the likelihood of reprisal will diminish. She managed to get a contract on her life without any help from you at all, man! I can't see where getting close to Stephanie is going be anything but good for both of you. You need to figure out why you really can't do it." Ranger heard the disconnect in his ear. At least Tank had given him something to think about on the long trip home tomorrow.

It was two a.m. as he beeped the locks on the Mercedes. He turned toward the stairs and then, uncharacteristically, took the elevator. He was just too damn tired for the stairs. He'd spent hours mentally preparing himself for the sight of her in his bed and he still wasn't sure about his control. Prepared or not, he was on his way to seeing Stephanie in a place he hadn't ever dared to imagine her.

She was asleep, oblivious to his entrance into the apartment. He made his way to the bedroom and stood in the doorway. When she woke up he was leaning one shoulder against the doorjamb, his arms loosely crossed over his chest.

"I'm trying to decide if I should throw you out the window, or if I should get in next to you," Ranger said.

"Are there any other options?" she asked him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I needed a safe place to stay."

His mouth curved at the corners. Not quite a smile but definite amusement. "And you think this is safe?"

"It was until you came home."

His brown eyes were unwavering, fixed on her. "What scares you more... getting thrown out the window or sleeping with me?"

She sat up in bed, pulling the covers up with her. Her hair was a jumble of curls framing her face. "Don't flatter yourself. You're not that scary."

"You're lying. I'm very scary." His almost-smile stayed in place. "I saw the gun and the flak vest when I came in."

She told him about the death threat. "His name is Junkman, and no one knows who he really is."

"You should have asked Tank for help," Ranger said.

"I don't always feel comfortable with Tank. I feel guilty for getting him shot and breaking his leg."

"And you feel comfortable with me? You got me shot in the leg. At least Tank's vest took the bullet when he got shot."

She hesitated with her answer.

"Babe" Ranger said. "You're in my bed."

"Yes. Well, I guess that would indicate a certain comfort level."

His attention dropped to her chest. "Are you wearing my shirt?"

"I have to do laundry."

Thank God he was exhausted. Maybe he could pull this night off. He sat on the edge of the bed and unlaced his boots.

"What are you doing?"

He looked over at her. "I'm going to bed. I've been up since four this morning, and I just drove thirteen hours to get home. Half of it in pouring rain. I'm beat. I'm going to take a shower. And I'm going to bed."

"Um..."

"Don't look so panicked. You can sleep on the couch, or you can stay in the bed. I'm not going to attack you in your sleep. At least it's not my plan right now. We can figure this out in the morning."

And he disappeared into the bathroom.

When he came back into the bedroom she was turned on her side, face to the wall, back to the bathroom, and she was asleep. He pulled the covers back and slipped in the bed, knowing he was going to have an uncomfortable night, but he slept in spite of his bedmate.

He was lying close to her. She was on her back, her hair a wild tangled mess around her face and his t-shirt twisted around her body. He was on his side looking down at her. She had one leg outside the covers and he had a glimpse of red lacy panties and a long white thigh. He'd woken up hard and his cock stirred against the silk of his boxers. He knew he should get up and get dressed before she awakened. It would be the smart thing to do, but he didn't move. He'd always been honest with her. If something happened between them in his bed it would be consensual, and it would not change anything between them.

She stretched in her sleep and her hand brushed against his bare chest. Her eyes opened wide and he watched as she refocused on where she was, and who she was with.

"Oops," she said.

"Babe," Ranger said, wrapping his arms around her, gathering her close to him.

She buried her face in that spot…the small hollow area above his collarbone, next to his neck. Desire coursed through him and he almost convulsed with need. "You smell great," she told him, her lips brushing against his neck as she spoke. "I thought of you every time I took a shower. I love this stuff you use."

"My housekeeper buys it for me," Ranger said. "Maybe I should give her a raise." His voice was husky from early morning disuse. He thought about the busy day he had ahead, about her problems with Junkman, and about how this would complicate his life.

And he kissed her.

She was unresponsive for a moment. Decision making time, he thought. And then her lips moved against his and her arms wrapped around his waist, just above the black silk boxers. They kissed for a long time, until Ranger pulled back and with one movement pulled his shirt over her head. His mouth left her lips and concentrated on her breasts, trying hard to give them equal time and attention. She made little panting sounds with each gasping breath and her hands came down to push his head away. He ignored her attempt and with surprise and a surge of desire that made him tremble, he realized she was coming. He hadn't touched her below the waist, but it hadn't been necessary.

"Oh, no!" she cried softly. "It was too soon."

"Babe, you're half-Italian. You should know that was just the antipasto. There's a full meal to be had…and dessert." He stopped talking and resumed his work.

Afterward she was on her back again, her hair impossibly tangled and spread across the pillow. He lay on his side, his head propped up on his hand, and asked her, "Why are you here, Babe?"

"I had to get away from Morelli," she said. "He wanted to put me in protective custody. I didn't want to move back home because Junkman was looking for me, and I didn't want to put my family in danger." Emotion was coursing just below the surface of her words and he could tell she was trying to control her fear at the thought of the contract. "I was going to sleep in the truck, but it led me here," she continued. "The GPS was on. I just followed it backwards."

"And broke into my apartment?"

"I had a key. You don't seem especially upset or surprised that I borrowed your apartment."

"With the exception of the seventh floor, the entire building inside and out is monitored. Tank called me when you pulled up to the gate. I assumed you had a good reason for needing the apartment, so I told him to let you stay."

"That was nice of you."

"Yeah, I'm a nice guy. And I'm late for work." He rolled out of bed, bent to the phone on the bedside table and pressed a button.

A woman's voice came on. "Good morning," she said. "Welcome home."

"Breakfast for two this morning," Ranger said. "I have two guests, one of whom will be sharing a meal with me, and I'm thinking the other guest won't be fond of Shadow. You'd better keep him at home this morning." And he disconnected.

"Who was that?" Stephanie asked.

"Ella and Louis Guzman manage this building for me. Ella makes life easy for me. She does the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, the shopping."

"And she brings you breakfast?"

"She'll be at the door in ten minutes. I've never had a woman here before, so she's going to be curious. Just smile and endure it." And in twenty minutes my mother will know you spent the night. "She's a very nice lady," he concluded.

She raised her hand to push her hair back from her eyes and Ranger saw a bruise, large and purple. It extended from her elbow to mid-forearm and the skin around her elbow was abraded. He reached out a finger and traced the edges of the bruise gently, and he saw her wince. "What happened?" he asked.

She was disconcerted by the question. "N-Nothing," she stammered. "I tripped and fell and landed on my elbow."

"When?"

"Um, a couple of days ago. It's really nothing."

"How? Catching a skip?"

"Oh, no. I was just clumsy and fell." She was lying and they both knew it. He'd seen her concoct on-the-spot stories that were totally believable when she was dealing with skips. What ever happened to her elbow was somehow significant, but she wasn't ready to share the details. One thing he'd learned about her was that she kept almost as much hidden as he did sometimes. He'd find out, or eventually she'd tell him.

By the time he was dressed and out of the shower Ella had come and gone. He and Stephanie sat at the bar in the kitchen and ate breakfast. He questioned her further about Junkman, but she had no answers. He was impressed when he found out she, Connie and Lula had captured a Slayer and were going to interrogate him. He was amused when he found out they hadn't been able to make him talk.

"I'll help you with him tonight," he told her, "but today I'm very busy. What are your plans for the day?"

"Just the usual bounty hunter stuff. I've got a couple of skips outstanding and Vinnie is getting antsy."

"I'm going down to the control room on five," he told her. "I'll be back up in twenty minutes and I'll give you a brief tour before we leave for the day. I'm going to need the truck, so you'll have to take one of the other vehicles. Preferably one of the Porsches as the Mercedes needs to be detailed after the road trip." He put his breakfast dishes in the sink and turned to leave. Her words stopped him.

"You lied to me."

"Babe?"

"When you took me to your parents' for dinner. You said you weren't rich, but your parents were. This looks rich to me."

"I didn't lie to you, Babe. I'll never lie to you. RangeMan is not operating totally in the black yet. It takes a lot of money to start and run an operation of this size. I'm not rich, but I will be someday, and not because of inherited money. Right now, I'd say I'm comfortable." He turned and walked toward the door and called over his shoulder, "Twenty minutes."

When he came back he found her dressed in her normal outfit of jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a still damp ponytail. He walked over to her and took another look at her elbow. "If you leave your laundry for Ella she will do it for you today."

"It's in the basket, in the bedroom," she told him.

He nodded. "C'mon," he said and led her from the apartment. As they entered the elevator he told her, "Ella and Louis live on six. If you need her you can push the intercom button on the phone and dial 6." The door opened on the fifth floor and they walked into the communications center of RangeMan. There were offices along one wall and a bank of monitors along another. There were men at the monitors, and they looked up with interest. Ranger waited for a comment, but none came. He saw her eyes light up when she recognized Cal and she gave him a little finger wave. He nodded solemnly back at her. Near the offices at one end of the room were computer cubicles.

"Who works there?" she asked Ranger. He looked and saw the top of a dark head of hair bent toward a monitor.

"That's Rodriguez. This is supposed to be our research department. Rodriguez heads up research and right now he's all we have. When one of the other men is injured or needs to be taken off the streets for any reason, they help Rodriguez. We need to hire him some permanent help soon."

As they walked by the break room he saw Ella cleaning the kitchen. He looked down to see Shadow winding in and out of his legs. He bent down and scooped up the cat. "This is Shadow, Ella's assistant. I don't think he and Rex will be friendly. Ella prepares a simple breakfast for the men daily and she keeps the refrigerator stocked with healthy snacks. All RangeMan employees have to maintain a healthy lifestyle and a high level of physical fitness." He put the cat down and Shadow ran to Ella's side.

"Guess that lets me out," she said.

"Aren't you still running every morning?" She rolled her eyes at him and he smiled. The full-on smile that was rare for him, but she seemed to bring it out. He was unaware of the eyes that followed their path. His men knew better than to comment, but they were enjoying the show.

He led her to a small room next to the break room. The door was closed, but he pushed it open and stood aside for her to enter. She turned to him with upraised eyebrows.

"Do you remember Bobby?" he asked tilting his head toward the company medic. "This is our infirmary and Bobby runs it."

"Of course I remember Bobby," she said, smiling at the tall man standing next to an exam table. "It's nice to see you again. Do you stay busy patching up Ranger and his men?"

Bobby laughed and wiggled his eyebrows. "Sometimes busier than others." She blushed because she knew he was referring to the injuries Cal and Tank had sustained in her presence.

"Ranger tells me you've injured your elbow," Bobby said. "Can I see it?" He held out his hand and waited for her to put her arm in his.

"Oh, really, it's nothing. I just fell."

"When did you do this?" Bobby asked, expertly running his fingers over the bruised area and squeezing her elbow lightly.

"Day before yesterday," she said. "It hurt at the time, but it's much better now. It's not broken or anything."

"I agree," Bobby said. "But there is a little fluid in the joint space. I think time will heal it completely, but if you need something for pain I'd be happy to…"

"No," she interrupted, embarrassed at the attention.

After they left the infirmary they went to the garage. The truck was once again in its bay against the back wall and he saw Stephanie do a double-take as she saw it.

"I left it parked in the street," she told Ranger.

"Tank brought it in. Every RangeMan vehicle has GPS and a built-in tracking system. They knew where it was all along. They just didn't want you to feel uncomfortable so they let you keep it on the street."

She shrugged her shoulders, showing no embarrassment for her naiveté about the RangeMan building and its monitoring. She smiled broadly at Ranger and pulled keys out of her pocket. She pointed them at the Turbo and beeped the locks open. "I'll take the Turbo this morning and the Cayenne this afternoon."

"Are you planning on returning the Turbo or blowing it up?" Ranger asked and she punched him playfully on his arm as she turned toward the Turbo. "See you tonight," she told him as she slammed the door shut. He stood and watched her motor out of the garage. Five seconds later a black SUV pulled out of its parking space on the side wall. Cal and Vince. She should be okay today.

Her 'I'll see you tonight' echoed in his ears. This morning had happened without prior planning. If it happened tonight, she'd have to come to him. There could be no doubt at the end of her stay. There was nothing permanent between them, couldn't be anything permanent.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit**

Chapter 30

The ride to RangeMan from Vinnie's Point Pleasant house took forty minutes, and they didn't speak at all. He thought her mind was occupied with the interrogation of Anton Ward. His mind was occupied with her in his bed. She called it his zone, but it wasn't really. He was remembering their morning. It had been better maybe, than the previous time, although shorter in duration. She was an amazing lover, if not as experienced as he was. She was willing and innovative…and responsive.

By the time he parked the Turbo against the back wall of the garage he was ready to carry her up to seven, throw her down on his bed and cover her body with his, but it wouldn't happen. He was used to denying himself all sorts of pleasures, not because he was into denial, but because he always saw the bigger picture. He knew the consequences of another night with Stephanie. Every time they were together it would be harder for him to step back, but he would. It sounded egotistical, but he knew he could play by the rules. They were his rules. And now he had to change the game. She might understand, intellectually, there was no relationship, but she was in an emotional situation right now.

If Stephanie came to him tonight, she'd make the decision to sleep with him based not on the close proximity of their bodies, but based on the fact she wanted him and knew there were no strings. He had a plan.

He switched off the ignition and turned to her. "We need to talk about what happened this morning."

"All right," she said. "And we need to talk about what happened tonight."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "With Ward you mean?"

"Yes. I don't think I'm cut out for this."

"You should have stepped outside. I didn't think you would like our interrogation methods."

"No," she said. "It's not that. People just aren't afraid of me. We tortured him last night, but it didn't work. It just made him mad and he screamed at us, but he wouldn't talk."

"You tortured him?" Ranger questioned.

"Yes," she said. "We didn't want to hit him so we tied him up and Lula stuck a needle between his toes."

"Nice," Ranger said. "What happened next?"

"Ward got angry and yelled threats at us, Lula fainted and Connie threw up."

"And what did you do?"

"I went outside and stood in the rain. I might have been crying, but it was hard to tell with the raindrops and all."

"Anton Ward gave us information tonight, but it wasn't because we were mean and scary. It was because we were committed to our course of action. We didn't raise our voices and yell at him. We threatened and we delivered."

"We threatened and we delivered," she repeated.

"And you let him see you were upset by your actions. If you make the threat you have to make the commitment to deliver, and maintain your attitude. Then you get results."

Stephanie stared at him in the dark car for a long time. The lights of the garage gave some illumination, but threw shadows across her face. It was hard for him to read her expression.

"I think I understand," she said. "You state your purpose and you stick to it, even if you are in turmoil underneath. The important thing is not to let your emotions show. If you start casual, you finish casual." She opened the door of the Porsche and got out quickly, making her way to the elevator.

Ranger exited the car and went to stand behind her as they waited for the elevator to descend. "Babe."

She whirled around, her face carefully schooled in a pleasant expression. "Oh, I'm sorry. You wanted to talk when we pulled in to the garage and I sort of derailed the conversation." The elevator door slid open and he pulled her inside. He pushed the floor button and they rode quickly to the fourth floor.

"What's on the fourth floor?" she asked.

"Studio apartments that are available to RangeMan employees. I moved one of the men out so you could have your own place until it's safe for you to leave RangeMan." As the doors opened Ranger wrapped her hand around a key. "Don't expect me to always be this civilized."

"Civilized?"

"What happened this morning was unplanned, by either of us. You didn't expect me to come home, and although I had the information you were in my apartment, I had no intention of sleeping with you. It wasn't planned."

"Do you regret it?" she asked.

"No."

"Do you plan everything you do?"

"I try to."

Ranger took the key back, crossed the hall, and opened the door to 4B. He flipped the light on, gave her the key, and shoved her inside.

"Lock the door before I change my mind," he said. "Hit seven if you need me."

"Wait," she said. There was color in her cheeks and she was clenching and unclenching her fists. He didn't think this was a good sign.

"I'm staying in this apartment so I will be safe from Junkman," she said, her eyes boring into his, "and you, right?"

"Babe."

"Don't you dare 'Babe' me. You think I'm in such an emotional state over the contract on my life that I would cling to you from fear and need, and that the sex we'd have, because we couldn't control ourselves, would be filled with an emotion that could lead me to believe you care about me, right?"

He didn't answer.

"There can never be anything between us, except a casual fuck. I get it, Ranger." She paused, either to catch her breath or collect her thoughts. Ranger wasn't sure. "You are a kind, caring and generous friend, and you've been a phenomenal mentor," she continued, "but as a lover, you suck!" She slammed the door, but his hand shot out preventing it from latching.

"You can come to seven anytime you like," Ranger told her, "and if you do you'll end up in my bed. I've told you I'm an opportunist, so be careful about the opportunity you afford me. I'm trying to do the right thing by moving you out of my apartment."

He pulled the door shut and as he turned toward the stairs he heard the bolt slide into place. He was halfway to seven when his phone rang.

"Yo."

"We've got Ward in the holding cell," Tank told him. "I'll file the appropriate paperwork tomorrow and we'll get his bond recalled. He'll be back in jail by the afternoon."

"Make sure there's no problem. I don't want him back on the streets."

"I'll make sure. You know, it's funny. We banged him up, but he's not upset with us. He says he's going to kill the bitches that snatched him."

Ranger fobbed his way into his apartment. "They attempted to torture him," he said. "Lula stuck a needle between his toes."

"Nice. And that didn't convince him they meant business?"

"Lula fainted afterward and Connie threw up. Stephanie went outside."

Tank was silent while he digested this information.

"I want to talk to you about Lula," Ranger said. "I have an idea I can't shake, but it will have to wait until this Junkman mess is over." He disconnected and sat in his armchair. There was the sound of Rex's wheel turning in the background and he wondered if he should have moved the rat to four. She might be lonely without him.

He sighed and tried to concentrate on the plans to find Junkman the next day. He was tired, partly from the trip and partly from the short night he'd had, followed by a full day. He absently pulled the leather thong from his ponytail and let his hair fall around his shoulders. He'd thought about a haircut, but he was holding off, as long hair might be more practical if he spent extended time in Colombia.

The knock on his door had him on his feet immediately. It was Stephanie. It had to be. He'd made himself clear. If she came to him, he'd move on the opportunity. He felt himself grow hard before he could take a step. The second knock bolted him into action and he walked to the door, eager, but trying to appear calm, purposefully taking his time.

When he opened the door his heart skipped a beat. She was ready for bed and she'd ridden the elevator up three floors, with active security cameras. He tried to remember who was on in-house monitors. Shit. It was Lester.

She was wearing pink boxers with yellow flowers and a yellow t-shirt and her feet were bare. The shirt left a wide band of exposed skin between its hem and the waistband of her boxers. It was a thin shirt and he could see her nipples and areolae clearly.

"Can I come in?" she asked calmly.

He stepped back and let her pass by him. She walked into the living room and then turned around to face him.

"You were right when you said I was in an emotional state. I'm here because I'm scared, I'm lonely, and I like your sheets better than the ones on four. And I'm giving you your opportunity for casual, uncommitted sex. But there is one thing you should know. You can make rules for yourself, but you can't make them for me. It's not uncommitted for me, and I'm pretty sure it's not casual.

"Fuck," Ranger muttered.

"Yes, that's the reason I'm here." She stepped close to him and let her hand run down the ridge of his erection along the front of his cargos. She leaned into him and let her tongue trace a path on his neck, just above the edge of his t-shirt. He scooped her into his arms and carried her into the dark bedroom. He dropped her on the bed so abruptly she bounced.

Ranger walked to the head of the bed and flipped the switch on the candlestick lamp on the bedside table. "I want to see you," he said in a calm voice, but he wasn't feeling calm. He was feeling predatory and he was going to take her. His eyes never left hers as he peeled off his t-shirt, toed off his boots and unzipped his cargos.

She knelt on the bed and helped him pull the pants over his hips and her breath caught when his cock sprang free of restriction. When he was naked he leaned over her and pulled her boxers down her long lean legs and threw them on the floor. She spread her legs and he fell into her, burying himself with one deep thrust, even as her legs wrapped around him to take him deeper. He forgot her t-shirt, twisted, but still mostly in place and he was unaware of his hands fisted in her hair. He didn't know when they slipped to her shoulders and held her in place. He concentrated on his rhythm, on the feel of her as he slid in and out, and he concentrated on the sound of her passion-induced vibrato as she raggedly called out his name.

"Carlos!"

And then he quit thinking and let his body move in a rhythm that was beyond his control.

Afterward, he held her close and watched as she drifted off to sleep. He recalled their earlier conversation. Had he planned this? To a point. He'd made sure that if they ended up in bed together it would be her decision. Informed consent. There was no way he could plan what happened once they were naked and lying together. He had no control where she was concerned. His body and his desires overrode his carefully planned agenda. And he was a man who lived his life with tight control.

His body gave an involuntary shudder, and he realized he was afraid. He was afraid of Stephanie and he was afraid for Stephanie. If he couldn't control what was between them, he could take charge and find Junkman. Finding people was what he did and he was good at it. When he drifted off to sleep it was with the firm idea of how he would spend the upcoming day.

Morning came before he was ready. He quickly shut off the alarm and left her sleeping, but when he came out of the shower she was awake. She was naked. He'd finally gotten around to removing the t-shirt in the middle of the night, when he'd come awake to find her hand exploring his bare chest. He'd returned the favor and what had happened next was less frenzied than the first time. He smiled as she pulled the covers up to hide her nudity.

"Babe, it's a little late for modesty." He sat on the bed and pulled her up against him. He held her tightly and her hair tickled his chin. She was silent, which was not unusual for her in the morning. She needed coffee and food and reassurance, and he was going to give her everything she needed. "Go take a shower and get dressed," he told her. "I'll call Ella and we'll eat breakfast and discuss the day."

"Does Ella have Tastykakes?" she asked.

"I'll tell her to put in a supply."

They were at the breakfast table, and Ranger was watching her eat a croissant. She looked surprisingly content, and he knew he was going to rattle that contentment.

"I got some bad news while you were in the shower," Ranger said. "Junkman tagged his cop."

She dropped the croissant. "Anyone I know?"

"No. He was a member of the State Police Street Gang Unit. He was working locally, but he was based out of north Jersey."

It's my turn next. The thought was written so clearly on her face it caused him pain.

"Junkman will get taken out," Ranger said. "There are a lot of people looking for him. In the meantime, I want you to stay in the building. If I don't have to worry about you, I can have two extra men on the street tracking Junkman."

She nodded her acquiescence. "You have a lot of overhead here. How can you afford to have men follow me around and look for Junkman, and still have staff for business as usual?" she asked.

"Junkman just killed a state cop. There's a big enough reward for him to justify assigning some manpower to search for him. There's no monetary way to justify a security detail to watch over you. I bleed money every time you need protection."

Her face blanched and he mentally cursed himself for speaking so bluntly.

"Jeez," she said. "I'm sorry."

Ranger finished his coffee and stood. "I said there was no monetary way to justify your security. The truth is you're a line item in my budget. I don't have to justify your security. It's my company and my decision, and I do what I need to do to keep you safe."

She followed him into the bedroom and watched while he got his gun, checked it out, and attached it to his belt. He slid money and credit cards into his pants pocket and then turned to face her.

"I have you listed under entertainment on my budget," he said, "This is a high-stress business, and you're comedy relief for my entire team. Plus, I get a tax break."

Her eyes opened wide and her eyebrows shot up an inch into her forehead. He could see she was starting to get pissed off and he was glad. He'd rather she be pissed off than feeling guilty about costing him money.

"Comedy relief?" she asked, her chin thrust forward.

Ranger gave her one of his rare full-on smiles. "I like you. We all like you." He grabbed her by the front of her shirt, pulled her toward him and kissed her. "The truth is I love you... in my own way." He separated from her and turned to go.

"You have free access to the entire building. Nothing is off limits to you, just remember, you're on camera the instant you leave this apartment. And you should know, I've given orders to stun-gun you if you try to leave the building. I take keeping you safe very seriously and so do my men. Have a nice day." He walked through the door knowing he'd left her surprised and a little pissed off and that was much better than leaving her in fear and self-pity.

His phone rang mid-afternoon. He answered with a soft, "Yo."

"Yo, yourself," she said. "I'm going nuts here. What am I supposed to do? There's nothing good on television. There are no books or magazines. No cross-stitch, needlepoint, knitting. And don't suggest I go to the gym. It's not going to happen."

Ranger disconnected.

His phone rang again. "What was that?" she said. "You disconnected me!"

"Babe," Ranger said. This time she disconnected.

He walked in the door about six and was met by Stephanie. She hadn't ventured out of the apartment and he thought it would have been better if she had. She looked stressed and almost pounced on him.

"Did you get Junkman?" she asked.

"No, but we're making progress. We've got a name, Norman Carver, and we have a good photo ID. It's just a matter of time until we get him. Everyone is looking for him. Local, State and Federal police are all involved." He could tell she was upset, but he didn't know if it was at the news they still didn't have Junkman or if she was going stir-crazy from being in one place all day.

"Okay, that's good. Well… I'm going to the mall, and I just waited around so I could say thank you. I appreciate the use of your apartment, and I'm going to miss the shower gel big-time, but I have to go. So, it would be good if you made sure no one stun-gunned me."

Ranger walked toward her. "No."

"No?"

"Junkman's still out there."

"Junkman's not going to be at the mall. And excuse me, you're blocking the door."

"Give it a rest," Ranger said.

"Give it a rest, yourself," she said, giving him a shot to the shoulder. "Get out of my way. I need to buy a shower gift for Valerie."

She gave Ranger another shove, and he shoved back, pinning her to the wall with his body.

"I've had a long, unsatisfying day," Ranger said. "I'm low on patience. Don't push me."

He was effortlessly leaning into her, holding her immobilized with his weight. He saw the expression shift across her face. She was angry, but she was starting to respond to his body contact with her.

"This really pisses me off," she said, but he could tell pissed off wasn't the dominant emotion.

She snuggled into him and brushed her lips across his neck in a light kiss.

"No fair," he said.

She shifted under him and he leaned into her more closely letting her feel his erection against her stomach.

"I've got the weight and the muscle," he said. "But I'm starting to think you've got the power."

"Do I have enough power to persuade you to take me shopping?"

"God doesn't have that much power. Did Ella bring dinner up?"

"About ten minutes ago. It's in the kitchen."

He pushed away from her, ruffled her hair, and went to the kitchen in search of food. The door was left unattended. The car keys were in the dish. He knew she wouldn't go.

"Arrogant bastard," she yelled after him.

He turned and flashed her the full-on smile.

After dinner they sat side-by-side and watched TV. She was restless and he made a quick decision. He turned off Wheel of Fortune in the middle of the bonus round and she shot him an irritated glance.

"Babe, you're all worked up." He stood. "Let's go down to the gym. You can work some of the tension out."

"I don't feel like going to the gym." Her lower lip was sticking out.

"What's the problem?"

"How can you ask that? I'm in prison. I can't be expected to be happy and cheerful when I'm caged up and there is a madman out there trying to find me to kill me."

Unbidden, his mind went to the metal box in Colombia. Six days underground with almost no water and no food. No space and just barely enough air.

"You've been in 'prison' less than twelve hours," he told her harshly. "You are in a safe place where Norman Carver can't reach you and half of Trenton is looking for him."

He turned and walked two steps toward the door before he swung back around. "You had the use of the entire building today and Hal told me you didn't leave the apartment. Get over yourself, Stephanie. Grow up and take some responsibility for your mood. People here are trying to help you, but you need to help yourself." He thought he saw the beginnings of tears as he turned and left the apartment.

Twenty minutes later his body was covered with a fine sheen of sweat as Lester held the heavy bag in place for him while he punched. If it had been an actual opponent the fight would have been over fifteen minutes earlier. His punches were delivered rapid-fire with a force that occasionally knocked Lester backwards. The door to the gym opened and Stephanie walked in. She was wearing one of his t-shirts and had stretchy black yoga pants on.

Lester saw her first. "Hey, beautiful. I see you're wearing the RangeMan colors. Are you officially on board with us now?"

Ranger turned around to see Stephanie standing uncertainly in the doorway.

"No," she told Lester. "I just put something comfy on to work out. I thought I might use the treadmill."

"Are you gonna run or walk?" Lester asked.

"Walk."

"Okay, come here and I'll show you how to program a walk. The treadmill will automatically take you on a warm up and a cool down and in between you can walk up virtual hills and then down."

They stood side by side at the treadmill. Ranger toweled himself off as it appeared his workout was done, or at least his workout partner was done. Lester was absorbed in getting Stephanie up and moving on the treadmill.

When she was on the treadmill and successfully navigating the warm up program she looked up to see Ranger standing with arms crossed against his chest, his black shorts riding low on his hips. He was staring at her and Lester with an intensity that caused her to miss a step. She grabbed the hand rail for support and Lester turned to see what she was looking at.

Ranger was unmoving, and Lester suddenly realized his time in the gym was over for the day. "Guess I'll be hitting the showers," he said. "Ranger can help you if you have any trouble with the controls, beautiful." He left the gym quickly reminding himself not to come back for a while when Ranger was there. He didn't want to be a sparring partner anytime soon.

Ranger walked to the treadmill next to her, punched in a program, and started running at a rapid pace. For twenty minutes they exercised in silence next to one another. Then the program Lester had set for Stephanie went into cool down mode and her steps started getting slower and slower. Finally, she stepped from the treadmill and stood beside Ranger who was still running on his.

"I'm sorry," she said.

He reached out and shut his machine down. He picked up a towel and wiped the sweat from his face and chest. Still not talking, he took her by the hand as they walked toward the elevator. As the door slid closed in front of them Ranger entered a code on a small numeric keypad.

"What's that?" she asked.

"I scrambled the cameras." He reached out and pulled her roughly against him. His mouth found hers and he pushed her against the wall of the elevator as their tongues dueled. When the door to the elevator opened on seven he walked her backward toward the door of his apartment, breaking the contact of their mouths only to breathe. They didn't make it to the bedroom. Ranger turned right and boosted her onto the kitchen counter. His gym shorts were quickly disposed of and Stephanie's yoga pants were yanked down past her knees in record time. He knew how to please a woman, yet once again his need was so great he forgot about her needs, and once again she surprised him with her ability to meet him thrust for thrust with a desire that matched his.

When they were done he leaned into her to rest his trembling legs. Her weight rested on the countertop, but she clung to him for support as well. When he had regained his equilibrium he picked her up and carried her through the bedroom and into the bathroom. They showered together in a slow foreplay for what was yet to come.

The next time their passion built slowly and their lovemaking was languorous. He was reminded of the last time they'd had sex that night in her bed. The night he knew he loved her. And he had to remind himself as he moved over her, this was temporary. It couldn't last. He couldn't let it last.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.

Chapter 31

"I have another busy day," Ranger said as he and Stephanie ate breakfast together. "It would be better for everyone if you stayed inside RangeMan, but I don't want you to feel as though you are in prison. If you can't take it anymore, call me_._ I'm the only one with authority to get you past the parking garage."

"Are you busy looking for Junkman?" she asked him. "Or did you assign someone else to it?"

"I've taken myself off the RangeMan schedule and I am devoting myself full time to his capture, and I have other men working on it as well. It will happen."

"I hope it happens today."

"What are you going to do after it happens?" he asked. He already knew the answer. She'd go to Morelli's.

"Is that your way of asking me when I'm going to leave?" she questioned.

"Babe, you can stay here as long as you want. If you leave, you can come back. The key fob is yours and I've given instruction that you have free access to the building. I didn't put an end date on it."

She was quiet as she finished the rest of the egg white omelet. He watched the kaleidoscope of expressions cross her face. They both knew she wouldn't stay in his apartment. "Val and Albert are moving out soon," she said. "I need to be in my own place."

"Why not stay with Morelli?" He hoped he knew the answer. She'd alluded to complications in their relationship before, but he wanted to hear her say they weren't together.

"Joe and I have a long history," she said. "Mostly it works better for us when we have some space. And right now, it's not that way between us."

"What way?"

She shot him an irritated glance. "_That_ way. We're not…" she hesitated and Ranger both wanted and didn't want her to continue. "We're not sleeping together. He loves me and I love him, but it's just not working between us."

Finally. She'd admitted to what he'd already known. Her next words sent him reeling. "You didn't really think Joe and I were having sex, did you? Do you see me as the kind of person that can just roll out of one man's bed and into another?"

Ranger said nothing.

"Oh, _well then_." Stephanie stood from the table and gathered up their breakfast plates. She rinsed them and placed them in the dishwasher with efficient movements. He could see she was pissed and he wasn't sure what particular aspect of their conversation had been responsible for her loss of temper. He needed to leave and get a start on the day, but he didn't want to go while she was in this mood.

She turned from the counter and faced him. "This is why I don't do casual sex. I'm not a good fuck buddy. There are rules I just don't understand." Ranger stood from the table and walked toward her. He would have taken her in his arms, but she held a hand up, palm out, to stop him.

"You're curious about my sexual habits," she said. "I'm not sure you have the right to be curious, as this is strictly no-strings attached sex. It makes me wonder whose bed you rolled out of to land in mine. Do I get to be curious, too?"

"I'm still in my bed, Babe. You're the one who did the rolling." The words were wrong and he wanted to pull them back as soon as he said them. She pounced on him, her fisted hand striking him directly in the chest.

"You're an ass!" He caught her fist before she connected with his body again. He didn't want her breaking her hand. "So, since I came to your bed," she said, "you did the gentlemanly thing and 'serviced' me? How big of you! Here's a news flash, Ranger. I had planned to be in and out of here without you ever knowing it. It wasn't a plan to seduce you. I was trying to keep the people I love safe."

He'd seen her in action when she was pissed. Her moves were instinctive and effectual and he reacted quickly. He took hold of her shoulders and swung her around to lean against the wall. He pressed his body close to immobilize her. He knew she was deadly with her knee and he wasn't taking any chances.

"You like to say things are complicated," Ranger said. "We are complicated. I care about you and you know that. There's no price for what I do for you, ever."

She was twisting her body trying to free herself from him and he was growing hard. Shit. He wanted to explain to her what he was feeling, but this wasn't the time. He had to make her understand that he could not act on his feelings. But he didn't know how to do that. So he took a deep breath, and said to the best of his ability what was in his heart.

"Stephanie, you need to take a realistic look at me. There are parts of me that are…broken. I can't say it any better. What I want and what can be are not even close. You are important to me. What happens between us is important to me, but there is no place in my life for a traditional relationship."

"Look at my life, Ranger. What part of me do you think is traditional?"

He pulled back to lessen the pressure against her. Her eyes met his, and he could see she was earnest with her question. Every part of you is traditional, Babe, he thought. He leaned in and let his lips touch hers. The kiss deepened and her arms came around his shoulders. He pulled back and bent his head to let his forehead rest against hers.

"I have to go, Babe." His hands cupped her face and he made her a promise. "We'll get Junkman. And then we will deal with the rest of the gang situation. This will be over soon." He stepped back again, turned and walked from the room. When the door to the apartment clicked shut, Stephanie was still standing against the kitchen wall.

He told her he would put a couple of extra men on finding Junkman. The truth was everyone was looking for Junkman. RangeMan was operating on a skeleton crew until Norman Carver was found. Communication with the Trenton Police Department was ongoing. They were only a step behind him all day. Ranger's street presence helped him slide into places the police could not, but still he had no luck.

He got a call from Morelli about two in the afternoon. "We got a tip that I think is a good one," Morelli said. "Junkman is supposedly hiding out with an ex-girlfriend of Eugene Brown. Her last known location was out of gang territory. Somewhere in North Trenton."

"How good is this Intel?" Ranger asked.

"Solid, but it's incomplete," Morelli said. "We don't have a specific name or an exact address yet. I'll keep you posted." And he disconnected. Ranger made a call to Rodriguez and asked him to dig up any information he could find on Eugene Brown's ex-girlfriends. If they had a list they could go through them one by one.

He called Connie at the bonds office. "I need information," he said. "I'm looking for the guy who holds the contract on Stephanie, Norman Carver. I need any information you can find on Eugene Brown and his women."

"Okay," Connie said. "I'll get right on it, but RangeMan probably has access to all the information I have."

"I'm counting on you having access to information I can't get on a search engine. You have local contacts that we don't, and I'd appreciate anything you can find for us."

An hour later his phone rang. It was Lula. "You got a pencil?" she asked Ranger. "Cause I got a list for you. I talked to Ladonna Freeman. We used to share a corner sometimes, and she's still in the business. I got a list of women Eugene's been cozy with, if you know what I mean. You think Junkman's hiding out with one of them?"

"Could be," Ranger said. "What have you got?" She gave him a list of names, some of which he knew and a couple that were new. He put men on it. They were going to find this guy and eliminate him. One way or the other, the situation would be over for Steph.

The next call came from Vince, who was in the control room. "We picked up a police band transmission. They got Norman Carver. They picked him up on a routine traffic stop."

"That's convenient," Ranger said.

"We thought so, too," Vince said. "I've got a call in to the PD, but they haven't confirmed a positive ID. Chances are it's him, but…"

"Don't pull anyone off the search yet," Ranger told Vince.

His phone rang again five minutes later. Vince.

"Uh, we've got a situation here, boss."

"Report."

"Ms. Plum tried to leave the building and Hal stepped up to stop her. Somehow, she got his stun gun away from him and she dropped him. By the time Woody got down to the garage she was gone. She took the Turbo and we're tracking her."

"Get someone on her, physically," Ranger commanded.

"Already done," Vince said. "Hal's wobbly, but he said she told him she'd been called and Junkman was captured."

"Do we have confirmation of that?" Ranger asked.

"Not yet," Vince answered. Ranger had two more women on his list. He was going to visit each one before he returned to RangeMan. If his men found Junkman they'd been instructed to call him and then back off. He was working without a partner and the reason was simple. If Junkman was found, he was going to kill him. It would send the message to the Slayers to stay away from Stephanie. Anything less than the death of Junkman would mean Stephanie still had a problem.

He struck out at the first place, but had a near miss at the second and last on his list. Norman Carver had been there, Janda Jones told him. He'd been staying with her since he came to town, but he'd just left in a Hummer filled with Slayers.

Ranger left the Jones woman and went back to the Cayenne. He found the Turbo on his GPS. It was parked at the Chambersburg VFW. He pulled out his phone and called Stephanie.

"Babe," Ranger said. "What are you doing at the VFW?"

"Valerie's shower. Is Hal okay?"

"Yeah. You were caught on camera again. The men in the control room were laughing so hard when you stunned Hal they couldn't get down the stairs fast enough to stop you from leaving the garage."

"I heard they caught Junkman, so I thought it was okay to leave."

"I heard that, too, but I haven't been able to confirm the capture. I've got a man on you. Try not to destroy him."

He was still in front of Jones' house thinking about the inconsistencies of the Intel. If Junkman had just left with the Slayers, then the police didn't have the right man in custody. His phone rang again and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. This wasn't going to be good news.

"They've got her," Tank said. "I was parked so I could see the entrance to the building and the lot, but I didn't see her leave. RangeMan got a call from some dude that was playing in the band for whatever's going on at the VFW, and he saw her get pulled from the Buick and thrown into the trunk. Vince patched the call through to me. There was a Hummer full of Slayers and the one that put her in the trunk is driving the Buick. The band dude is a friend of Stephanie's."

"Sally Sweet," Ranger said.

"Yeah," Tank said. "He's following her in a big school bus and he says he knows where they're taking her. The gang has a circle of justice on a playground on the 700 block of Comstock."

"Call Morelli," Ranger said and he disconnected. He turned the key in the ignition and put his foot heavily on the gas. He'd have to make record time to Comstock. The fear was pushed out of his conscious mind. All thoughts were directed toward the elimination of the threat.

When Ranger pulled in behind a Trenton black and white he was aware of Morelli's SUV sliding to halt behind his car. They exited their vehicles, guns drawn and ran toward the park. He saw her standing next to Sally Sweet and slowed marginally. She was alright.

The smell hit him first. The distinctive smell of blood and body fluids that was unmistakable permeated the night air. Overlying it was the scent of cordite, also unmistakable. Then he heard the sound of human moans. Low and guttural. It took him back, to places he didn't like to think about.

There were dead and wounded scattered around the small patch of cracked and graffiti-sprayed pavement. In the center of a roughly painted white circle stood Sally Sweet, in a red dress and matching heels, with an UZI dangling from his fingers. Next to him was Stephanie. She had a tight grip on his arm, but it looked as though she was supporting him, not the other way around.

Unbelievably, she was smiling. When their eyes met, she gave him a finger wave. It was apparent Sally Sweet had broken up the gang, literally. Robin Russell was taping off the perimeter, marking the crime scene with yellow tape, and within a few minutes the place would be swarming with cops. Morelli made his way to her, stepping over the writhing wounded and the bodies that had bled out, and his arms went around her in a big bear hug.

Ranger stood and watched as they embraced. Morelli leaned down to say something to her and Ranger saw her nod. He left her side to speak briefly to Robin Russell and then he turned and walked toward Ranger. "That's Norman Carver's body sticking out from under the school bus," he told Ranger. "Robin ID'd Eugene Brown as one of the dead, and as soon as the EMTs get here we'll start a body count."

Ranger nodded, but said nothing and Morelli turned and went back to Stephanie. She was okay, standing still and not looking at any of the dead. Ranger didn't know if she could block out the cries of the wounded. He couldn't. In the growing confusion of the crowd he felt the darkness closing in on him. He turned from the scene in front of him and faded into the night, leaving the growing chaos behind him.

The rooftop of Haywood was seldom used, but was easily accessed by the stairway that ran from bottom to top of the building. The only two stairwell doors that were kept locked were the door to the seventh floor vestibule outside Ranger's apartment and the door to the roof. He stood without moving unaware of the passage of time. As he looked over the edge of the short retaining wall at the city below him, he let himself feel the emotion he'd dammed away earlier. It came creeping back over him in waves. First the terror, and then the relief, and lastly the anger.

He was angry she put herself in the situation, and he was angry at himself for letting her get so close to death. It was frustration more than anger that he felt about not being the one to kill Norman Carver. He didn't begrudge the ugly cross-dressing Sweet his reward; he just felt the incompleteness of a job not finished. He felt as if he'd failed her, which he knew wasn't logical, but the feeling wouldn't leave.

He hadn't made any effort to conceal his whereabouts. The cameras on five had undoubtedly picked up his entry to the building and ascent up the stairwell, and the roof had surveillance cameras as well. He heard the rooftop access door open, but gave no indication. He was surprised it had taken Tank so long to join him.

"You gonna jump?"

Ranger shook his head and then turned around and looked at Tank. "Maybe you should jump. She was on your watch when they got her."

"Are you blaming me?" Tank asked.

"No." Ranger walked back from the short wall that bordered the building's edge. Tank hid his surprise at the unusual display of emotion on his friend's face and wondered if Ranger knew what he was revealing. "I'm not blaming you, and I'm not blaming Hal for letting her go in the first place. I'm not even blaming Stephanie, because…she is the way she is."

He made his way past Tank and pulled open the door. "Come downstairs. I need a drink." They sat in the living room, each of them with a small measure of Scotch in their glasses. Ranger had upended the Glenfiddich bottle and tossed it in the trash. He didn't plan on replacing it.

"I stayed until things were under police control," Tank told him. "The body count was six with another six transported to area hospitals. I think Sally Sweet is going to walk on this. I'm not sure how they are going to explain the UZI. I don't know if he has paperwork on the gun or not."

"Make it happen," Ranger said. "He saved her life."

"Interesting there was a gun within a hand's reach of each of the bodies," Tank said.

"How'd that happen?"

"Sweet told me Stephanie did it. He said he was standing there in shock and she went around pushing guns up to the bodies with her shoe. She takes care of those important to her."

"Where is she?" Ranger knew the answer.

"She left with Morelli. She was looking for you and when she didn't see you she let him bundle her into his vehicle and leave."

Ranger heard the censure in Tank's voice, but he didn't respond to it. She didn't belong at RangeMan. She didn't belong with Morelli either, but right now that was probably the best option. "Send someone up here tonight," he told Tank. "She's got a basket of clothes she might need and she'll want Rex."

Tank set down his glass. "I'll do it," he said. "I want to see her and make sure she's okay. She might be having a delayed reaction to what happened earlier. She's tough, but sometimes tough isn't enough."

It had been two weeks since the massacre on Comstock Street. That's what the Trenton media was calling it. There was little sympathy for the Slayers, or what was left of the Slayers. RangeMan and its involvement had received no coverage in the press, and Ranger was grateful for that. Stephanie's name had been mentioned, but the unquestionable hero of the day was Sally Sweet. An enterprising reporter had snapped a picture of him in his red cocktail dress and matching pumps and it had made the front page of the Sunday edition in full color. The caption underneath the picture read, "_Dressed to Kill_".

Thanks to Tank's ever vigilant surveillance, Ranger knew Stephanie had moved back into her apartment. Morelli was keeping to a steady diet of Robin Russell, and they were even taking it public. Stephanie was staying in a lot and eating frequent meals with her family. And she'd gone back to work for Vinnie.

Ranger and Tank rarely disagreed on major decisions regarding RangeMan, but when they did Tank always stepped back. It was true he held a share in the business, but it was Ranger's primarily and so the final word was his. This time Tank was taking a stand.

"It's your call Rangeman, and I'll abide by your decision. When things go south, and they will, I want you to remember I was against this idea. Are we clear on that?"

Ranger smiled at his friend and second in command. "Noted. I'm on my way over to talk to her right now." He left his office and stood for a moment before he decided on the truck. He got in, turned over the ignition and made his way out of the garage and into mid-day traffic. When he walked into the bonds office, Stephanie was the first person he saw.

He hadn't seen her since that night on Comstock. She'd been standing with one arm wrapped around Sally Sweet and the other around Morelli. He didn't know about Sweet, but he knew she hadn't been wrapping anything around Morelli lately. Conversation stopped when they all noticed his presence.

"Ranger, I'm glad you stopped in," Connie told him between bites of the pizza the three women were sharing for lunch. "Vinnie needs to talk to you about some work, but he's out of the office until tomorrow."

"I'll give him a call," Ranger said, but his eyes never left Stephanie. She looked good. She was wearing jeans and a sweater which clung to curves he was intimately acquainted with.

"I've been meaning to call you," Stephanie said. She got up from her chair and walked to stand in front of him. "I wanted to thank you for what you did for Sally. I'm not really sure what you did, but he walked away from that entire Slayers thing with no charges, and he said he owed it to the big guy. I think he meant Tank."

"Tank helped him find the registration for his UZI, which had previously been lost."

"It was nice of you, and of Tank," she said.

"No price, Babe." He lifted his eyes over her head. He turned to look at Lula who had her pizza slice folded in half and was eating it like a sandwich. "I need to speak with you privately, Lula. Will you join me in the alley?" He heard the indrawn gasp of all three women and he shot them the two-hundred watt smile.

He turned and walked from the office and Lula was quick on his heels, her piece of pizza still in hand. He walked mid-way into the alley and turned to face her.

"I want to offer you a job," he said.

"A job? What kind of job?"

"In the research department, at RangeMan."

"Well that sounds good and all, but I work for Vinnie."

"I'm not asking you to give up your job with Vinnie," he told her. "This is a serious offer, Lula. You'd be the first woman operative I'd have on staff. You'd have specific duties and job requirements to fulfill and you'd be making a lot more money than Vinnie pays you. You can set your own schedule and if you still want to work for Vinnie you can."

"Do I hafta wear black?" she asked. "I'm a woman of style."

"Yes," Ranger said.

"What about boots?" she looked down at Ranger's booted feet. "Could I wear shoes instead of boots?"

"Yes, as long as they are black shoes. Let me explain. I need someone to assist my research man. You would be an employee of RangeMan and subject to the rules all RangeMan employees are. You'd have to qualify at the shooting range, you'd have to give an hour a day to a fitness regime and you'd have to put in 32 hours a week. I don't care if you work days, nights, or evenings. It's a serious offer and I hope you'll give it some consideration."

"Do you have tuition reimbursement?"

Ranger raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to community college," she said. "I'm bettering myself and I don't want to give up my school."

"If you come aboard RangeMan and work your hours, embrace your training and learn to properly handle a firearm, I'll reimburse your tuition 100%."

She wiped the pizza sauce from her hand on her leopard print skirt and stuck it out to Ranger. He didn't hesitate a moment before he shook her hand. "Deal," she said.

Ranger laughed out loud twice on the way back to RangeMan. He was putting Tank in charge of her training. His phone rang as he walked into his office. The number on the caller ID wiped any remaining smile from his face. Three months, they'd said. They were way past their intended deadline. He closed the door to his office and pushed the talk button.

"Mañoso," he said, and then he listened for a long time.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 32

The call he made to Tank was unsettling, because it was after midnight and he got the impression Tank wasn't alone. Ana. He made no comment, because it wasn't his business, and she was his sister. He _really_ didn't want to know.

"I got the _call_ today," he told Tank.

"Colombia?" Tank asked.

"Yes, but…"

"What time do you need me?" Tank interrupted. His voice was curt, and Ranger could hear the anger in his tightly clipped words.

"0800," Ranger said. "I'll need to brief you on some things before…" he was talking to a dead line. Tank wasn't in the mood to listen. He'd better listen in the morning; there were things he needed to know.

Ranger looked at his watch and decided it was late enough. He took the stairs to the garage and got in the Turbo. Traffic was non-existent and he made the trip in short time. She was driving a green Saturn these days and it was parked in the corner of the lot. A glance at her dark windows told him she was in bed. The brief interaction he'd had with her in the bonds office earlier was going to have to suffice for a long time, but he wanted to see her.

Getting into her apartment was no problem. She had a lot of hardware and a security system installed by Hector, but even with all that, getting in was a piece of cake. His lips twitched slightly at the expression he'd used, because it was so appropriate. He made no noise as he crossed her living room and slipped through the bedroom door. It took his eyes moments to adjust before he could see her vague form in the bed. The chair was still in the corner and he folded himself into it. He was motionless, starting his necessary vigil.

He needed to order his random thoughts, make sense of what was in his mind. He'd tried, unsuccessfully, all afternoon and evening. The call to his mother hadn't helped. He hadn't wanted to tell her, but thought he needed to. Here in Stephanie's room he felt the tension leave his shoulders and he began to think. The call had been unexpected, because they'd said within three months and it had been longer. He'd never known them to exceed a deadline and that fact alone set off warning bells.

He'd convinced himself they wouldn't call, that the op had changed due to information he had no need to know, so he was truly surprised when the call came. He didn't want to go, and he didn't want to examine the reason for his reluctance. It was new to him. It was the first time he'd questioned the veracity of the Intel. He'd thought his decision would be clear cut, and it hadn't been. He still wasn't sure he was doing the right thing, but time for doubt was over. The decision had been made and now he was obliged to move forward.

He'd wanted to talk to her about his trip, but he hadn't. It was new territory for him and something he wasn't at all looking forward to. He had, in the past, done things that were disagreeable to him, sometimes for the common good and sometimes to promote his own cause. This was the first time he was going to do something he had no desire to do, and had no idea of the outcome. He was used to seeing the goal. This trip was different and the goal was different. He was having trouble steeling himself to do what was necessary, and he found it impossible to verbalize his feelings.

He became aware of Stephanie moving her legs under the covers. Her head was turning side-to-side and she began making whimpering noises. It had been his plan to get in and out without her knowing he'd been there, but she was dreaming, and it didn't look pleasant. He moved from the chair to the side of her bed and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He lifted her up against his chest and held her.

Ranger didn't try to wake her. He just held her and waited for the dream to subside. Her head rested on his shoulder and her arms came up to wrap around him, and he felt the tenseness as she came awake with her body in close proximity to his. She stiffened as she realized she was being held, and then he felt her relax as she realized it was him. "Ranger?" she asked.

"Yes."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm holding you. You were having a dream," he said.

"I mean, what are you doing in my room?"

"I came to see you before I left," he said, and he felt the trembling start. He tightened his arms around her and he felt her breath coming in sobs, although she was trying to keep her crying silent.

"What is it?" he asked her. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"Yes," she sobbed. "And I'd still be having it if you weren't here. But you are here and it's already coming true."

"Babe?"

"I was dreaming about you," she said. There was dim illumination from the parking lot light edging in around the borders of the curtain and it let him see the uncertainty of her expression. "Would you stay with me? I mean…not to, well, you know," and her breath caught on a sob.

He leaned down and removed his shoes. He emptied his pockets and set his phone, gun and a knife on the bedside table next to a box of tissues. He pulled a handful of tissues from the box and handed them to her. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes, and dropped the wadded tissues to the floor. He pulled back the covers and slid in next to her, but he didn't remove any clothing. His control wasn't what it should be, and considering his immediate future, having sex would not be in either of their best interests.

"Tell me about your dream," he said.

"It was a nightmare."

He fought the tenseness that suddenly loomed. He'd had nightmares of his own lately. The incident on Comstock had shaken him, because he thought he would arrive to find her dead, or injured. He dreamed the dream over and over, almost nightly. He'd be walking on the pavement off Comstock looking at the faces of the dead and wounded, trying to find Stephanie, and he always woke up before he found her.

"You were dreaming about Junkman and the Slayers," he said.

"No!" She turned her head on the pillow to look over at him. "I was dreaming about you. I dreamt that you went away, and this time you didn't come back. And I knew you were hurt, but I didn't know how to find you. And then I woke up and… you are here, telling me you're going away." Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her face, this time without the shaking and sobs that accompanied her first session.

"Babe, it's not like that. You don't have to worry about me. I am going away and I don't know for how long. I want to tell you about it, but…" He didn't have the words. He rolled on his side toward her and used his thumb to wipe away her tears. Then he gathered her into his arms. "Do you remember when Lula said she watched CNN when I was in the wind?"

"Yes."

"This much I can tell you. You won't need to watch CNN. No harm will come to me. There won't be any more governments collapsing when I leave town, because I'm done with that."

"Is it RangeMan business?" He could hear the hopeful tone of her voice.

"It's personal business," he said. He leaned into her and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I tell you this every time, but I really mean it, Stephanie. If you have problems, if you need anything, talk to Tank. Do you still have my key fob?"

She nodded her head.

"Then use it if you need to. I'll stay for a while. Go back to sleep." She laid her head back on the pillow and did exactly as he said. He stayed until almost dawn before he slid out of her bed, put his shoes on and disappeared from her apartment into the night.

When Tank walked into Ranger's office the next morning he was surprised to see Ranger lounging in the Eames chair, his feet stretched out on the ottoman and crossed at the ankle. "You're late," Ranger said.

"One minute late," Tank replied, "and that's because I was helping Binkie with a camera malfunction."

"We need to talk, so close the door and sit at my desk. You'll be running this place. You might as well start now."

Tank slammed the door with a little more force than was necessary, but made no motion to sit behind Ranger's desk. "I don't want to hear about your mission. I didn't sleep at all after your call, and I'm not in the mood to hear what you're going to do."

"Sit down and shut up, you stubborn bastard. If you hadn't hung up on me last night you wouldn't have had problems sleeping." Ranger sat upright in the chair and put his feet back on the floor. Tank walked slowly around the desk and lowered himself into Ranger's high-dollar desk chair.

"All right," Tank said. He pulled one of Ranger's Mont Blanc pens out of the enameled desk set and began bouncing the point on the desk blotter. "Tell me about Colombia."

"I'm not going."

Tank looked up from his pen bouncing. He repeated Ranger's words, "You're not going? You said on the phone last night you were."

"I said I'd gotten the call. I never said I was going, and you hung up on me before I could explain. I'm not going to Colombia. I'm going to Scotland, and my flight leaves around noon."

"Scotland? What the hell kind of op do we have in Scotland?"

"There's no op," Ranger said. "I told them I was done. They won't be calling me anymore, because I told them I was mentally unprepared for the mission."

"Mentally unprepared, in what way?" Tank asked.

"I told them a trusted colleague had suggested I might be suffering from PTSD and while I'm not sure it's so, I felt I had to be evaluated."

"What's the deal with Scotland, then?"

"After I turned down Colombia I called your man, Dr. Johnson," Ranger said. He watched Tank's expression and felt satisfaction when the big man's eyebrows raised an inch.

"I told him who I was and why I was calling. We discussed options and I declined any military-based help. Not because they're not good, but I'd just made the decision to put that part of my life behind me and I think I'd feel more comfortable and more in control in a private practice setting. I'm done taking orders."

"Did you tell him about Colombia?" Tank asked.

"It wasn't necessary. I was mainly looking for a referral, and I got one. To the Brooks Centre in Edinburgh." Tank looked puzzled. "Scotland," Ranger continued. "It's one of the best, but least known treatment centers in the world for PTSD. Most of the general public doesn't know of its existence. I didn't, until yesterday."

Tank sat at Ranger's desk and continued to pound the precision point of the Mont Blanc into the blotter. "What'll you tell your Momma?"

"I've already told her I was going away on an extended business trip and didn't know when I'd return. It's the same thing I've always told her when I leave on an op, so she didn't believe me when I told her I was in no danger." Ranger stood from the chair and leaned over to take the pen from Tank's hand. "She didn't believe a word I said, so I just told her the truth."

"What about your father?"

"She'll tell him. The only reason I didn't is he was in the middle of a business day. There are no secrets between them and it's okay with me. I'm not trying to hide it, but I'm not publicizing it either." Ranger placed his pen back in its holder and returned to the chair across from Tank.

Tank nodded his head in understanding. "I'm surprised you gave up the op, but I'm glad you did."

"You're the one who told me I'd know when the time was right…and you were right. You need to know I've given a lot of thought to your assertion that I had problems with PTSD. I thought you were full of shit mostly, until recently."

Again, Tank looked surprised. "What made you change your mind?" he asked his boss.

"Ever since I saw Stephanie in the middle of the carnage on Comstock I haven't been sleeping worth crap. I've had reoccurring nightmares about her in that place. I started to rethink some of the things you said to me, and when the call for Colombia came, I made the decision.

"Stephanie is having problems, too," Tank told him.

"What kind of problems?"

"She's more affected by the Comstock ordeal than she lets on."

"And you know this how?" he asked Tank gruffly.

"Because we've been talking. I went over to Morelli's the night it happened, to take her hamster and clothes back to her, and I told her to call me if she needed anything. She did, two days later."

Ranger was taken aback by the news. Stephanie had needed help and turned to someone else. "You weren't exactly available to her," Tank said, correctly reading the expression that rolled briefly across his friend's face. "You pulled back and when she called me she didn't say she was having trouble. She asked how you were doing, and then one thing led to another and we've met for coffee a couple of times."

"She had a nightmare last night," Ranger said. He was contemplative, and didn't see the look of surprise on Tank's face. "She said it wasn't about Comstock."

"Then it probably wasn't," Tank said. "She's doing a lot better." He had questions he wanted to ask, but knew he couldn't. It wasn't like Ranger to let something slip, and he never thought out loud, but Tank realized it was exactly what he was doing.

"About my trip," Ranger said, abruptly turning the conversation from Stephanie. "I am flying out today and I have no idea how long I'll be gone. I'll call when I arrive and tell you how to best reach me. I'm not taking my regular cell with me, as I don't want to be interrupted or questioned. I am going on a mission of sorts, so I'd rather everyone around here assume the reason they don't know anything is because they can't. You'll be my liaison."

"What about Stephanie?" Tank asked.

"She doesn't know details, but she knows I won't be in danger. If she needs to speak with me, call me and I'll get in touch with her. I'll keep you posted regarding the length of my absence. There is one other thing we need to discuss. Lula."

"Shit."

"I want you to set up a training schedule for her. She's waiting on a call from you to let her know when her background check is done and she can come on board."

"This is a big mistake, Ranger," Tank said dourly.

"Do you know who was responsible for starting the entire Slayers mess?" Ranger asked Tank.

"Lula?"

"Yes. It was her inappropriate use of a gun that started everything. Ninety percent of Stephanie's capture problems revolve around Lula. She needs training."

"I thought you wanted her to work with Rodriguez," Tank said. "You want me to train her like a field operative?"

"I do want her to work with Rodriguez," Ranger said. "She has an interesting way of thinking and she's smart. She's the one who gave me the names of Eugene Brown's women, including the woman Junkman was staying with. I want her to aid Rodriguez, but I made it clear she is to follow RangeMan guidelines for physical fitness training, defense classes, and she had to learn to use a firearm."

"Basic self-defense?" Tank asked.

"Yes. And while she's training offer Vinnie the use of one of our men for Stephanie to partner with. When Lula has learned some self-defense skills and how to shoot a gun she can rejoin Stephanie, but this time as a RangeMan employee. It's a good deal for Vinnie."

Tank picked up the pen Ranger had taken from him earlier and once again began pounding the point into the desk blotter. For several moments the only sound in the room was the tempo of the pen as he banged it against the leather pad. "Soooo," Tank said, drawing out the word. "You hired Lula in an attempt to keep Stephanie safe?"

"Yes."

Tank's smile was wide as he stood. "Are you all packed and ready to go?"

Ranger stood as well and they faced one another across the desk. "I'll be ready in an hour," Ranger said.

Tank extended his hand slowly and curved his fingers into a fist. They bumped over mid-desk, saying more by touching their hands than either could have verbalized.

Ranger hadn't known what to expect when he'd arrived at the Brooks Centre. He didn't know if he'd stay a day or a week. In the end he stayed almost three weeks. It was an outpatient center and he stayed in a long term hotel, nearby. He was impressed by the organization of what was apparently a well-oiled machine. The efficiency with which his appointment and introduction to the program was handled told him his time wouldn't be wasted.

He'd been assigned to a therapist, Dr. Tavia Craig. She had a PhD in Psychology from Stanford, and an M.D. from Johns Hopkins, and was board certified in Psychiatry. She was a tall, no nonsense woman who wore her grey-streaked brown hair pulled into a messy bun. Her name was embroidered on the front of her pristine white coat, above the breast pocket. She had black horn-rimmed glasses that perched precariously on the end of her nose, and her blue gaze over the rim of the glasses was direct.

At their first meeting she'd asked him, "Why are you here, Mr. Mañoso?"

"I'm here to find out if I have problems with PTSD, Dr. Craig," he'd responded.

She'd laughed. "Most of our patients are here to be treated for their symptoms of PTSD. I'm delighted to have the chance to make a diagnosis." By the end of the first session they were Carlos and Tavia, and by the end of the third week, they were friends.

His days were filled with counseling sessions, followed by two to three hours of physical conditioning. The level and intensity of the training sessions were varied depending upon the participant's capabilities. The trainers were excellent and Ranger pushed himself hard in the gym and enjoyed it. Tavia explained to him the importance of regular exercise and the role it played in reducing PTSD symptoms. He told her about RangeMan and his requirements for his staff and they formed a mutual admiration for one another.

Ranger left the treatment center with an appointment for a follow up visit in six months and a clearer understanding of some of his behaviors. Tank had been right. He did have isolationist tendencies toward his family. Tavia had helped him see that and had given him strategies to change it. Stephanie was a different matter, but he had a plan for that situation as well.

He started his plan of connecting more closely with his family by making a phone call. He called Ana and asked her to pick him up at the airport and not to tell anyone she was doing so. He arrived at Newark midafternoon and she was waiting for him. She drove him to their parents' house and he used the time to begin a reconnection with his baby sister.

"Tank told me," he said, "that you were having problems with an old boyfriend, that he was stalking you."

"That's true," she said hesitantly. "But it's not going on any longer."

"Tank solved the problem for you?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Yes, he did."

"I'm glad," Ranger said. "Ana, I'm glad you asked Tank for help, but you could have asked me. I am always available to you." Now, he amended silently.

"I know that," she told him. "Tank and I are friends and it just seemed natural to ask him."

"Aren't you more than friends?" he asked.

She laughed. "That's direct, Carlos. Tank and I are friends, and more than friends, but what we are is so unlikely that we are taking things very slow."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I've told you everything I intend to. How was your trip?" She'd turned the tables on him effectively with one question. He didn't want to answer, but he did.

"It was good. I'll tell you a little more about it when Mother and Father are present. I don't want to talk about it at all and I'm not going to do it more than once."

The evening spent with his parents was enjoyable and a good way to wind himself back into his old life. The time at the center already seemed distant, and the responsibilities of his normal life awaited him. He felt eager to get back to business as usual with RangeMan. He was as brief with his detail as possible, but he did tell his parents he was fully committed to RangeMan.

"We're not entirely in the black yet," he said of his business. "But we will be soon and any out of town trips I take will be for personal or RangeMan business. No more government work that I can't talk about."

"That's wonderful to hear," his mother told him.

"Your mother and I understand your need to serve your country, Carlos," his father told him, "but at some point the time to serve is done, and it sounds like you've reached that point."

"Does that mean if I need funding for RangeMan I can come to you for a loan?" Ranger asked his father.

Ricardo Mañoso was startled until he realized his son was teasing him, and then he smiled the same smile his son had inherited from him.

"I have some exciting news for you, Carlos." His mother's cheeks were flushed and he wondered which sibling was going to make him an uncle now. Her news was not what he had been expecting.

"Your father and I are having a big celebration for our fortieth wedding anniversary. There will be Mass and a reception and then we are taking a second honeymoon!" His parents seemed very excited at the prospect.

"That's nice," he responded somewhat blandly.

"Yes," she said, "and I've sent invitations. Yours should be waiting for you at your apartment." She hesitated and he knew there was more, but she didn't say anything.

"Daddy is taking Mama to Paris for their second honeymoon," Ana said. "Isn't that exciting?" He agreed that it was and then looked discreetly at his watch. He was still on Scotland time and he was tired, and ready to get back to RangeMan.

Ana noticed. "We'd better be going," she told her parents. "I'm going to drop Carlos off at RangeMan and then I have a, um, date," she finished lamely. He wouldn't be seeing Tank tonight then.

An hour later he walked through the door to his apartment. He'd been seen on the monitors of course and he knew there'd be talk when he walked in unexpected. That was good. The news would be out that he was back and in the morning he was going to pick up where he'd left off. It felt good to know he was home, and in command.

His apartment was ready for his return thanks to Ella's vigilance. There were fresh flowers on his dining room table and food in his refrigerator. It was still relatively early in the evening, but his plans were made. He was going to shower and go to bed.

He wanted to see Stephanie badly, but he wouldn't go to her without getting an update from Tank. He didn't want to walk into her bedroom and find her in bed with Joe, and while he didn't think that would happen, he needed to be apprised of her current situation before he acted. And he was going to act. He wanted a relationship with her. He didn't know what she wanted, and he didn't know how he'd define what he wanted. There were things to work out, and he had time and energy and a burning desire to work them out.

He dropped his clothes on the floor of his dressing room and walked naked into the shower. The warm pulsing water felt good and he made a mental note as he rinsed shampoo from his hair. Get a haircut, short like he'd had it during the Ramos fiasco. It would be an outward sign of the new beginning he felt he was embarking on.

He stepped from the shower and wrapped a towel around his hips and then went back to the dressing room. He bent and pick up his clothes he'd discarded on the floor and placed them in a laundry basket for Ella. He pulled a pair of sweats from the shelf intending to put them on and froze. It was such a faint sound he didn't realize where it was coming from at first. And then he moved with precision. He'd been unarmed during his trip to Scotland, but he found his weapons, loaded and ready, right where he'd left them.

When the door to the hidden stairway slid open and Stephanie's head and shoulders popped through, she blinked rapidly to help her eyes adjust to the sudden light. And when her vision cleared she realized she was staring directly into the barrel of a gun.

Ranger let his hand drop to his side, the glock still tightly wrapped in his grip.

"Babe."


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: I am so very thankful for my beta, who sends my chapters back with lots of pretty red marks and insightful comments. Thanks jago ji, I couldn't do this without you. And as always, I do not own or profit from the use of these characters.**

Chapter 33

"Babe."

Stephanie pulled herself up into the dressing room and turned to push the third cedar plank from the left, low on the wall. The door slid silently closed. Ranger carefully placed the glock on the shelf in front of him. Her eyes found his and held, and he watched as the expression on her face changed from surprise, to concern, to… fear? He said nothing, just stared. It wasn't a purposeful silence. He was just having trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that she'd discovered the staircase. He lived in the apartment and hadn't known about it until he was told. Woody, whom he now knew to be focused and thorough in everything he did, had redecorated the entire apartment and he didn't know. Nikolas Kouris had hired men who'd spent two years designing and constructing the stairway so it would never be found, and Stephanie had discovered its presence. He said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Did you lose your key fob?"

"N-N-No," she stammered. "I didn't know you were back." Her head dipped and so did her gaze and he realized she was looking directly at the towel he'd wrapped carelessly around his hips. He whipped the towel from his hips, unconcerned with his nudity and turned to find the sweatpants he'd been going to put on before Stephanie's unexpected arrival. He wasn't in the mood for flirting or seduction, he was just taking care of business in an efficient way, but he noticed she didn't look away, or feign a false sense of modesty as he pulled them on. He turned back to her, still not speaking and took a long look at her.

She was wearing jeans which wrapped snuggly around her ass, and a jersey wrap shirt in a bright print that showed more than a hint of cleavage. Hoop earrings dangled from her lobes and tangled with the mass of curls. Her face was pale, making her eyes look huge and he was right. There was a taut line to her normally full lips, and small lines drawn across her forehead. If she wasn't afraid, she was at least tense, and maybe a little embarrassed at being caught. What the hell was going on?

Without warning, the hidden door creaked and Ranger grabbed Stephanie and pulled sharply to bring her behind him. "Get down," he growled as he found his weapon on the shelf. Years of training, experience and lightning-quick reflexes kept him from pulling the trigger as a grey missile shot by him. His mind had barely registered that the grey missile was Shadow, before he realized the exact model of the gun that he was pointing at the target was pointing back at him. Tank. But something was wrong. Tank's dark ebony skin had a pallor to it that wasn't normal and his hand holding the weapon was shaking. Ranger noticed the dirt smudges on the shoulders and sleeves of Tank's black shirt. The stairway was small and Tank was not.

Tank fell forward into the dressing room that was now crowded with three people and one very angry cat. Shadow was in the corner, with his ears flattened and his back arched, hissing. Stephanie turned toward the cat and Ranger said, "Leave him. Help me." Tank's lower body remained in the stairwell and Ranger wondered if maybe he'd passed out. He set his weapon back on the shelf and reached out and took Tank's gun from his unresisting hand. He placed Tank's weapon on the shelf next to his and he and Stephanie each took an arm and pulled him forward until the rest of his body cleared the stairway.

Tank slowly rolled over as Ranger reached out and pushed the cedar board to close the door. That last thing this fiasco needed was to have Shadow try to make an escape down the stairs. Tank lay looking up at the faces of Stephanie and Ranger staring down at him. "Fuck me," he moaned. Shadow sprang from the corner at the sound of Tank's hoarse voice and pounced directly on the big man's chest and then shot from the dressing room into the bedroom.

Ranger didn't blame the cat. It was crowded in the small dressing room and that couldn't be good for Tank. "Go get a bottle of water from the fridge for him," Ranger instructed Stephanie.

"What's wrong," she asked. "Has he been injured?"

"He's claustrophobic." Ranger saw the remembrance of the conversation at his parents' dinner table come back to her. She left the dressing room and Tank sat up and drew his knees against his chest. He rested his arms on his knees and bent his head forward, away from the view of Ranger. His breathing was starting to slow, which was good, because Ranger realized he'd been very near to hyperventilating.

He bent low over his friend not having any trouble finding words this time. "What the hell's going on?" he asked Tank who did not answer. Stephanie returned with the water and Tank took it from her and slowly sipped some.

It took several minutes before Tank seemed to be approaching normal. "I need some answers," Ranger said. "Let's go out to the living room where there is more space."

Five minutes later they were settled in the living room and still no one was talking. Ranger hadn't been angry, but he was working on it now. He was tired from his trip and he hadn't expected to come home to anything like this.

Tank took a shuddering breath and started talking. "I was returning Shadow to Ella," he said. "I've been keeping him because Ella's father-in-law was staying with them and he's allergic to cats. I parked my truck at the wine bar two blocks over because I am supposed to be meeting Ana there in…" he looked at his watch. "Shit. In five minutes."

"Call her," Ranger said. "Tell her you'll be late." Tank leaned to one side of the leather chair he was filling and pulled his cell out of the back pocket of his cargos.

"Tell her if she doesn't want to wait for you there she can come here," Ranger said. It was an unusual gesture for him and one he still didn't feel comfortable making, but he knew Tavia would approve of his decision.

Tank made the call and when he disconnected he said, "She's running a little late. We'll just meet there." He looked at the marks of dirt on his clothes where his body had come in close contact with the walls on his way up and shivered involuntarily.

Ranger felt a sense of satisfaction that he'd made the offer and a sense of relief they weren't going to be adding Ana to the mix. "Talk to me," he said to Tank.

"I was walking by the alley at the back of RangeMan and looked down to see a door close, and I turned and ran toward it. I thought I saw someone on the other side of it. I didn't even know there was a door there and by the time I got to it, I heard the click of the latch and the door disappeared. It took me awhile to figure out how to access it."

"Me, too," Stephanie said which drew a sharp look from Ranger.

"I knew you were back," Tank said. "Cal called when he saw you enter the building, and I knew there was an intruder, so I got the door open and followed. I was doing okay for the first part and then it suddenly seemed like things were getting tighter, and smaller. Somehow, I hung on and made it to the top. I saw the release catch and pushed it. I tried to count the stairs, but…"

"One hundred thirteen," Ranger said.

"I lost track," Tank said. "But I thought I might end up in your apartment and I thought whoever was ahead of me was a threat. I didn't know it was Stephanie. I didn't know about the stairs, but as I started climbing things starting making sense. I suspected something like this existed since, well, Abruzzi."

Ranger turned to Stephanie. "Your turn."

Stephanie stood from the edge of the sofa where she'd been perched, giving the appearance she was ready to run. "I have an, uh, appointment..." she began.

Ranger gave her a shove and she fell backward onto the cushion. "Talk."

"I didn't know you were here," she said. "I just wanted to spend some time in your apartment, and…" her blush rose into her hairline and she looked at Tank. "I'm sorry, Tank. I thought no one saw me. I just wanted to spend some time here and I didn't want to be on the cameras so I came up the stairway."

"Stephanie," Ranger said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "How did you know it was there in the first place?" He turned from where he'd been standing in the middle of the room and sat on the opposite end of the couch from her.

She sighed and blew out a breath of air that started the curls across her forehead dancing. "When I was staying here alone, before you came home, I tripped and fell. I was looking for some clothes to borrow, like boxers or a t-shirt, and… just where _do you_ keep your underwear?" she asked defensively.

"Babe."

"I tripped over some cowboy boots in the closet and fell down. I twisted my knee and I jammed my elbow against the wall, and when my elbow hit the wall, the door opened." She looked at Ranger to see him fighting a smile. She fell into a secret stairway, one that had been his secret alone. She literally fell into the information that had been kept secret since the building's construction.

"And that's how you hurt your elbow," he concluded.

"Yes."

"Babe, why didn't you tell me then?"

"I came here uninvited and I was afraid you'd be mad if you knew I was looking through your things."

It was Stephanie logic and it made a strange sense to him. She came to his apartment uninvited, showered in his shower, slept in his bed, and wore his clothes, but wouldn't tell him she'd discovered a new way in and out.

Ranger looked to see Tank checking the time. "Go," he told his friend. He was touched by the courage Tank had expended to potentially protect him from harm. "Ana is probably waiting on you."

"How?" Tank asked. "I'm not ready to go back down into that hellhole yet. And I've got to get Shadow down to Ella."

"I'll take care of the cat. Take the elevator and scramble the feed. I'll get Hector up here to alarm the thing tomorrow. It will still be a secret, of sorts. At least it will be within the organization. It's okay. The stairwell needs to be more secure anyway. I was going to attend to it soon."

Tank looked at Ranger. "Thanks," he said and it was heartfelt. He didn't want to ever spend time in that stairwell again. "Glad you're back."

"Thank you," Ranger replied. "Meet me at nine in my office tomorrow and once you get me up to speed on things you can take the next couple of days off." Tank nodded and left the apartment. They were alone.

"I need to be going, too," Stephanie said.

"Not yet. Didn't I tell I you could use the apartment any time you wanted to while I was gone? Why were you trying to sneak in?"

"There are reasons, and it's complicated," she said. "I just wanted to… feel close to you. I hadn't talked to you in three weeks and I missed…your shower gel." She blushed furiously. "I didn't want to have to explain to anyone else why I was here. I'd never used it before tonight, but I thought I could get in and out and no one would know. Lester didn't tell me you were coming home."

"Lester?" His tone was ominous and he couldn't modulate it.

"Yes, Lester," she said. She stood up and walked away from the sofa and where Ranger was sitting on the other end. "After Lula came to work here I've been partnering with Lester. He's helped me quite a bit."

"You're working with Lester?" Ranger asked again. What the hell was Tank thinking?

"Not all the time," she said. "Once or twice I worked with Hal and one day Bobby helped me, but mostly it's been Lester."

"Lester didn't know I was coming home," Ranger said. He stood and walked close to her. His arms went around her from behind and he buried his nose in her curls, inhaling a scent that was familiar and arousing to him.

She turned in his arms and tilted her head back. "Is your business done?" she asked. It was a hint and they both knew it. She wanted details of his trip.

"Yes," he said. "And I want to tell you about it, but I've been up," he paused to look at his watch, "I've been awake over twenty-four hours and I'm bushed. It's going to have to wait for another day." It was as good an excuse as any. He needed some time to plan what he was starting to think of as his Stephanie mission. They'd made so many missteps, mostly his fault, that he wanted things to move forward in a straight line. He leaned in and nuzzled her neck and she tilted her head back to give him better access.

"You could stay," he whispered against her neck. "I'm no threat to you tonight, but I'm sure my energy will be restored by the morning." His lips found hers and he was gentle with her, until her lips parted for him and he thrust his tongue into her mouth. Waves of fatigue that had been his constant companion for the last several hours receded and he was imbued with a new energy. Stephanie pulled back, breaking the kiss abruptly.

"I can't stay," she said softly. "I have a date."

Ranger stiffened. She had a date. "Morelli?"

"No," her eyes showed surprise. "Morelli and I are done. He's seeing Robin Russell and it's a good fit for both of them. We're still friendly, but that's it."

Now he was worried. He hadn't had time to talk to Tank. He didn't know who could be in her life. Maybe her mother was matchmaking again after Morelli's defection. "Who?" he asked. She blushed again and he could see she didn't want to tell him. "Babe?"

"I shouldn't have said date, exactly. It's just, well, we are just going out for a drink and some conversation."

"Who?"

"Lester."

"Santos?" Ranger's voice hadn't risen at all, but the total lack of emotion was the best indication of his sudden surge of temper.

"I shouldn't have said date," she repeated. "Lester and I are just friends. It's not like it sounds. It's casual."

Casual. The word hung in the air between them. Santos. Casual. It was just the fuck what it sounded like. He knew Lester Santos and would trust him with his life. He didn't trust him with Stephanie.

It was a test to his control that his demeanor remained calm. "I'll be busy tomorrow," he told her, "but I'll have free time the next day. Will you spend it with me?"

"Spend the day?" Stephanie asked him.

"Yes, the day. We have things to discuss."

"Yes," she said.

"Good. It's a date then." She looked at him quizzically, but didn't comment.

"I need to go," she told him. "And I was wondering if…" she seemed reluctant to finish her statement.

"You can go down the elevator, too," he said finishing her words for her.

"No," she said. "I was wondering if I could go down the staircase to get out. I have a flashlight and I'm not claustrophobic. I'm supposed to meet Lester on five. He'll be getting off his shift in few minutes, and I'd rather he not know I was here."

Ranger didn't want to question her motive, he just nodded and turned and walked back toward the dressing room. She followed him. He pulled a t-shirt over his head and stuffed his feet into the cowboy boots that were responsible for the entire night's adventure. He looked up to see Stephanie smiling.

"It's a new look for you," she said. "Sweatpants and cowboy boots."

"Don't get used to it." He leaned forward and down, and pushed the now familiar cedar plank, and once again the door slid open. He didn't know why the mechanism worked so smoothly, but with all the use it was getting it should be well lubricated. He stepped down in to the stairwell and flashed his mag light on. He turned and took Stephanie's hand. As she stepped onto the stair behind him he reached back and placed her hands on his shoulders and they began their descent. There was a small landing at the bottom and he mentally counted off each step. He knew what was going to happen when he reached it.

She was still two steps behind him when he turned off the mag light and pulled her down to his level. He pushed her back against the wall, and leaned into her, holding her lower body immobile with his. He let his erection press against her abdomen, and ground himself into her. He was making sure she knew exactly what her nearness did to him. And then he slipped his hand up to the neckline of her slinky wrap shirt and let his fingers trail between her breasts. His other hand skimmed up the outside of her blouse and he felt a nipple pebble underneath his touch. And then he kissed her, and was happy to note she was a willing participant. He broke the kiss because they both needed air, and Lester was waiting for her on five.

"I'll pick you up at 0800 day after tomorrow," he told her. "Be ready."

"Ready for what?" she asked him.

"Everything." He pushed the mechanism and the door opened and his hand at her back guided her into the alley. The door latched shut and he turned and made his way up the stairs as quickly and silently as the boots would allow. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror and realized he looked like a half-mad barbarian with his hair hanging around his shoulders and the hem of the sweatpants bunched over the boot tops. He picked up his phone and punched in a number.

"Santos."

"Touch her, and I will kill you." His voice had been well modulated and there had been no emotion attached to the words. It was a voice he used when he meant serious business and one Lester was familiar with from their long association. He disconnected and pulled the boots off. He held them in his hands for a moment before he turned and tossed them into the empty waste can with a satisfying thunk. He walked to the living room and collapsed into his leather chair and, from seemingly out of nowhere, Shadow jumped to his lap. Ranger sighed, his mind on Stephanie and Lester, and idly scratched Shadow under his chin. The cat emitted a series of low contented purrs and Ranger said, "Thanks. It's good to be home."

It didn't take long the next day to get fully back into the swing of things. The first thing he did was pull up the duty roster and reassign Hal to work with Stephanie. He put Lester on monitor duty…a ten hour shift. He'd been in his office for over an hour when Tank came in, appearing no worse for the wear after his trouble the last evening.

"How it go?" Tank asked, not shy about his curiosity. They had talked several times during the weeks Ranger had been gone and Ranger had deferred answering treatment questions, instead limiting their conversations to RangeMan business.

"It went well," Ranger said. "I liked the therapist, Dr. Tavia Craig. I've been sent home with specific goals to accomplish and in six months I'll go back and we'll evaluate my performance. You were partly right."

"Only partly?" Tank seemed disappointed.

"Tavia showed me that I do have some isolation tendencies that could be a result of PTSD. After a period of time tendencies can become habit, and the goal is to break the habit. One of the things the center highly recommends is good nutrition, a healthy life style with regular sleep and a good physical fitness regime."

"Huh," Tank said. "Are you going to establish a curfew?"

"I might," he said, thinking of Lester.

"And I was wondering," Tank said. "What was up with Stephanie last night?"

"You tell me," Ranger said. "What's going on with her? She said she had a date last night."

Tank's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I've been focusing my spare time watching Morelli, and she's been MIA on that scene. She spends her evenings alone in her apartment or at her parents, or occasionally with Lula. She must have had a date with someone her mother tricked her into going out with."

"It was Santos."

"Awww shit!" Tank exclaimed. "The idiot."

"I've taken care of it for the moment," Ranger told him and then changed the subject.

"I saw the red Firebird in the garage this morning," Ranger told him. And he'd seen her bright orange hair bouncing up and down in time to some unheard song over the wall of a back cubicle. He didn't interrupt her, but noted she was at work very early. "How's Lula's training coming?"

"It's variable," Tank told him. "It turns out she's a whiz at research. If she can't find it in a search program she makes a phone call and gets info from sources I can't even guess at. Rodriguez was appalled when he met her, but he's coming around. I wouldn't say they're best friends yet, but they are working together."

"Is she showing up on a regular basis?" Ranger asked.

"Depends on what you mean by regular," Tank said. "She works her thirty-two hours every week, but sometimes she's here early and other times late. Rodriguez always makes sure she has plenty to do and then she gives it back to him and he reviews it before the Intel is passed on. It seems she is taking it seriously."

The news was good. Ranger wanted Lula to be at least adequate the next time she partnered with Stephanie. His satisfaction must have shown, because Tank continued the report with a slightly different perspective.

"She's taken some liberties with the standard RangeMan uniform," he told Ranger.

"Such as?"

"You'll just have to see," Tank said. "She is taking the physical training well. I have her working with Vince and Bobby and myself and she is surprisingly strong. She wants to learn self-defense. I think the incident with Benito Ramirez is something she won't let happen again. The problem areas are her firearms training and her nutrition."

"Tell me about the firearms," Ranger said.

"I took her to the range the other day. She'd been working with Vince and he thought she was making some progress, so I went to check. Six shots. Two completely missed the target and there were two in the heart and two in the groin…"

"That doesn't sound so bad," Ranger interrupted.

Tank spoke louder and slower to make sure he had Ranger's attention. "She put two in the heart and two in the groin of the paper target in the unused lane next to her."

Ranger's gaze went to the control room beyond Tank. Tank turned to see what had caught his attention. It was the subject of their conversation. Tank stood. "C'mon. She's on her way to the break room. You can check out her uniform and her nutritional habits at the same time."

Lula was standing in front of the open refrigerator door, her generous bottom hiding the interior from view. She pulled back and turned to them, a wrapped sandwich in her hand.

"Hi, Ranger," she said. "I didn't know you was back. Welcome home."

"Thanks," he said. He saw her uniform and couldn't say anything as he had told her she didn't have to wear boots. The four-inch high black platform pumps seemed tame in comparison to what he'd seen her wear before. And he didn't remember if there was a policy against sliver hoop earrings so big they dangled on her shoulders. They matched the silver bracelets that jingled on her arm as she unwrapped her sandwich. All in all, it could have been worse.

Tank pulled the sandwich from her hand. "This is what I'm talking about, Ranger. She's not following the plan. She has Ella make her special sandwiches."

"The hell," Lula said as she made an attempt to yank her sandwich out of Tank's hand. A long strip of bacon landed on the table. Tank picked it up. "You see," he said. "Bacon is not on the healthy eating plan."

"Fuckin A," Lula said, standing in preparation to wrestle her sandwich out of Tank's hand. "But this ain't bacon. It's turkey bacon. I'm trying to do this right, and Ella's helping me. You can't expect a girl to quit cold turkey." And then she smiled, "Or maybe you can," she continued. "I just made a good joke."

Ranger's lips twitched and he held back a smile, but he was enjoying Lula's self-amusement and Tank's irritation.

In spite of his offer the night before, Tank remained at work. It allowed Ranger to spend his day in tele-conferences with the managers of the outlying RangeMan offices. He'd been putting off making a call to Holly all day, and he finally called shortly before he left the office. He set up an appointment to meet her and warned her it would be a complicated and probably lengthy meeting.

Loans from his private monies to RangeMan would have to be set up on a different repayment schedule, as there would be no more high-dollar ops to pay the loans off. Repayment would come in the form of steady profits from RangeMan. Holly would help him decide which portion of profits would go back into the business to help grow it and which percentage would go to pay off the debt. He was still embarrassed a little at owing himself money, but it was important to him to know one day RangeMan would be operating in the black because of loyal employees and good management, and not an inheritance from his grandfather.

When his day was done he went to his apartment to think. He ate a solitary dinner left for him by Ella and then sat in his apartment and planned his strategy. He had to first figure out what it was about her that made it imperative that she was in his life. He had to figure out what she wanted from him in terms of a relationship. And he had to realistically assess the danger to anyone he brought close to him. He'd been pleased when Tavia agreed with him that Stephanie could be at risk, because of enemies he had made in the past, if she aligned herself with him. But Tavia had been adamant that it was not a reason to forgo a relationship with her. He would plan and tomorrow he would attack.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: Real life intervenes, and I missed my posting schedule by a day. I won't be posting Wednesday, but there will be a new chapter on Friday. I have had several PMs during the posting of this story asking me about the title. It's time to confess I borrowed it. I first saw the title 'Texture of Casual Desire' in reference to a painting by one of my favorite artists, Rafel Olbinski, and although the story and the painting have nothing in common, I thought the title was a story waiting to be written, so I did. As always I use them for fun and not for profit**

Chapter 34

He hadn't adjusted completely to Trenton time. It was four in the morning and Ranger had the gym to himself. He was concentrating on cardio today and the treadmill was set for an intense workout. He stepped onto the running deck prepared for thirty hard minutes. As his workout progressed he was focused and intent on his breathing, making sure he got enough oxygen into his system, but not so focused he was unaware of the figure standing inside the gym door watching him.

Lester Santos had been part of his Special Forces team. He knew the man as well as anyone and he liked what he knew. Lester was deadly in the field, being a sharp-shooter with any weapon he picked up. His knowledge of explosives surpassed most of those who'd served with him. And he was a brilliant tactician, but his most deadly trait was his charm. Ranger was not immune to it; Lester's employment at RangeMan gave evidence of that. Lester's loyalty to Ranger was unquestioned as well. It came from a long association with Ranger as his commander.

The treadmill started into a slowdown mode and Ranger called out to him over the noise, "I'll be done in three minutes. I want to speak to you."

"No more than I want to speak to you," Lester said. He remained unmoving just inside the doorway.

When his workout was finished Ranger stepped off the treadmill and picked up a towel to wipe the sweat from his eyes. He turned to Lester and the men stood facing one another across the gym.

"Talk," Ranger barked.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Lester's sarcasm came through clearly, but Ranger merely nodded.

"I'm serious, Ranger. I spent ten hours on the monitors and then I went with Hal to check night-time camera placement on the Edison account, because that's what I was originally scheduled to do, before you put me on the monitors. I want to be able to speak freely."

Again Ranger nodded.

"You put me on monitor duty and I took it. I didn't complain about it, and I'll take my regular turn like everyone else, but I am a senior member of this team and I don't deserve your pissant little punishment. If you're angry at me for spending time with the woman you've got a perpetual hard-on for, then bring me down here and attempt to beat the crap out of me. Don't stick me on monitor duty. It's like fucking time-out for grown-ups."

There was the Santos charm. Ranger should have been kicking his butt for the comment about Stephanie, but he was holding back a smile. It _had_ been like a timeout for grown-ups. He knew monitor work was deadly boring and ten hours could seem like twenty. Ranger decided to throw some charm back at Lester.

"You're right. I was wrong. Warm up and step into the ring and I'll beat the crap out of you, then we'll call it even."

"At least let me have my say first," Lester said.

"I thought you had."

"Not nearly," Lester replied. "After you left for the recent mission, Tank told us you'd hired Lula. He was dead serious about training her, telling everyone what their role in her instruction would be. She scares the shit out of me. I wanted no part of her, so he put me with Stephanie." He saw Ranger tense.

"Stay where you are," he warned Ranger, "and let me say this. Stephanie's hot and she's got an…" Lester saw the tightening of Ranger's fists and regrouped. "She's an attractive woman and many of the men would enjoy spending time with her. I'm not bragging, but women come on to me all the time, so when one doesn't, it interests me." Lester noticed Ranger was standing two steps closer to him.

"Cut the caveman routine, boss. There is nothing going on between me and Steph and there won't be. She's got a serious interest in you." Lester thought Ranger looked like he was another step closer.

"She told you that?" Ranger asked.

"No, but we've had lots of conversations these last few weeks. Her conversations are mostly centered on you. I like her, Ranger, and we are well on the way to becoming friends. The other men like her. I don't know what's going on between you two, but you are going to have to back off with the jealous lover routine. There is nothing between Stephanie and me, romantically. I'd give her a roll, but she won't let me. And no one here would move on your woman…if that's what she is. Some of us just aren't sure where you're taking it."

Ranger pushed sweat-dampened hair back from his face, and thought about what he'd just heard. It was a simple but effective reminder that Ranger was the boss and his men knew it. Lester had given him some things to think about. And he couldn't really hold his views against him. Lester had been correct. It was a petty and spiteful thing he'd done, putting him on monitor duty. And it had been undeserved, apparently, but Ranger wouldn't apologize. Lester neither expected nor wanted it.

"What's your assignment for the day?" Ranger asked Lester.

"I'm supposed to meet Stephanie at the bonds office at nine. We've got one outstanding, unless Vinnie has some come in today."

"I've got business with Stephanie all day. Take someone with you and get the skip, and then you can have the day off."

"Great," Lester said. "Jeanne Ellen is due back in town this morning with an FTA she picked up in Florida for Les. I'll give her a call and see if she's up for anything." He waggled an eyebrow at Ranger.

"Not only are you a brave SOB, Santos, you're a crazy one."

Ranger made the quick trip up the stairs to his apartment and showered. He hesitated before he dressed which was odd behavior for him. He was thinking of this day as something apart from his normal routine. Maybe he should forgo the uniform, or maybe not. He decided to dress normally in RangeMan black, because that's how she was used to seeing him. He had a plan and he was sticking to it.

By 0500 he was at his desk, deep in an encrypted file, to which he alone had the password. It was a chronological record of his ops, starting with his first military action and ending with the most recent trip to Colombia. The file would remain open to him, but with his refusal to make a return visit to Colombia, there would be no more additions. Tank was right. They didn't coerce him to stay, just accepted the fact he could no longer go. He wondered for a moment who took his place. Undoubtedly there was some other ex-Ranger who gladly went. The baton had been passed and he felt not one iota of regret. He worked within the confidentiality of the file making his own lists of potential enemies. If he was going to bring Stephanie fully into his life, then he had to know the risk. There would be no heads buried in the sand. He had the manpower and technology to keep her safe, and he would.

He'd talked with Tavia at some length about his fears, and was relieved when she felt they were founded. She didn't agree with his solution, which was to separate himself from those he was close to, but suggested instead he work hard at identifying and categorizing the threats. It was a viable alternative, and one it would take Ranger weeks to accomplish, but he would do it.

It wasn't his Middle Eastern operations that bothered him. He had been anonymous for most of those. On top of that, terrorist threats to get back at the United States were rarely directed toward individuals. He though the greatest threat to Stephanie would come from Central and South America, where he had operated extensively against the drug cartels. These were the people who were much more likely to make an individual attack against a family member.

Most of those threats would diminish with time. Tank had been right about that, as well as about Alexander Ramos. Stephanie had charmed the man and he felt the Ramos family wasn't really a threat at all, and if necessary could become allies with him willingly, or unwillingly, if he kept Alexander's written confession of involvement in a safe place.

Ranger looked at his watch and decided he'd done enough work for the day. He saved his data and exited the file. When his list of terrorist threats was complete he would implement surveillance on them. It would be costly, but it would be worth it. He'd talk to Holly about a new line item in the budget. Family security. He'd leave the entertainment budget alone for now. Lula's training notwithstanding, he knew there was already a RangeMan pool for the timing of the next vehicle explosion.

He stood in front of Stephanie's door and debated the wisdom of knocking versus entering in his normal fashion. He had the day carefully planned, including the ending where they'd be naked, together in his bed. But between now and then there was a lot of conversation on Ranger's agenda. He wanted to hear about her and Morelli and how they'd decided it was over, and he'd tell her as much as he was allowed about his past life. He would explain his hopes for RangeMan and he'd tell her about the PTSD and his ongoing treatment in Scotland. She would come to understand his initial reluctance to bring her into RangeMan, and his private life. And, of course, he'd explain how that had all changed. Then there would be dinner and dancing, their first real date, and he knew they wouldn't be stopping at a good night kiss on the front door step. He decided to knock.

Her response to his knock came quickly, and it was not what he'd expected. "Go away," she shouted.

He knocked again, "Babe?"

"Go away, Ranger," Stephanie shouted. "I can't see you now. I'll call you when I can." She sounded as though she was on the verge of tears and he knew something was very wrong. He slipped the ever present slim black case from his pocket and her door swung open seconds later. He saw her run through the bedroom door and slam it shut with force. He hadn't seen her fully, just a glimpse, but he was reassured she was okay physically. He walked toward the closed door and opened it cautiously to see her lying face down on her bed, a pillow covering her head.

"Go away, Ranger. I really mean it." He paid no attention and walked to the bed. He sat down beside her and reached out to remove the pillow that was being held in place by her interlaced fingers pushing it down.

"Are you attempting to smother yourself?" he asked.

Her voice was muffled. "Please give me a couple of hours. I call you when I can see you, but not now."

"Aren't we beyond that, Babe? What happened?" Slowly she unlaced her fingers and the pillow sat loosely on her head. Ranger reached out and lifted it and managed to remain quiet. Her hair was singed on one side of her head, and coated with red glitter on the other. He smelled the distinct odor of gun powder. He said nothing, knowing he could offer no words of comfort. She rolled over and looked up at him through eyes swollen from crying.

"It was an accident," she said. "I called Mr. Alexander at home and he's meeting me at the mall at nine o'clock. That's a full hour before he opens. I wanted you to come back later."

"What happened?" Ranger asked, checking the time on his wristwatch.

"Sally called and I went to the Blaze club to watch his band last night. They had a new pyrotechnic special effect he wanted me to see. They had cones of glitter that were supposed to shoot out and filter down on the audience, but one of them got knocked over and it shot right at me." Her eyes once again filled with tears at the memory.

"Were you hurt?" Ranger asked.

She pointed to her hair with her hand. "Duh…"

"Babe, it's just hair."

Instead of comforting her, his words caused the tears to well and spill over again. "It was on fire," she said. "And the glitter is stuck. It won't come out."

He took her hands and pulled her into his arms. His lips met hers in a gentle kiss. When he pulled back he had red glitter on his nose and she reached out to brush it off, the tears flowing freely. "Go wash your face," he told her. "If you hurry I'll drive you through Dunkin'Donuts before I take you to Mr. Alexander. I'm betting he can get the glitter out." She walked into the bathroom and came out minutes later with a clean face and reapplied mascara. Ranger found the Seals hat he'd given her and grimaced only slightly as he pulled her hair up and pushed the hat down over it. Most of the damage was hidden, and he made her look in the mirror so she could see for herself.

As he pulled the Porsche into traffic after exiting the drive-thru at the donut shop, Ranger realized the day wasn't going to go as planned. It was typical when Stephanie was involved, and it didn't bother him at all that she was messing up his carefully laid plans. It was just a detour for the morning and they'd get back on track soon enough.

Mr. Alexander was waiting for them. He'd been Stephanie's stylist for so long he didn't even blink at the sight before him. Ranger sat unmoving and watched as the stylist transformed Stephanie's hair back into a recognizable halo of curls, albeit shorter than she would want. As he twirled the chair around for Stephanie to see, Mr. Alexander leaned in and said in a loud whisper, "Very attractive, my dear. But now your hair is shorter than that of your friend."

Ranger raised an eyebrow and looked at his watch. The salon wasn't due to open for another half hour according to what Stephanie said earlier. He stood and walked from the chair he'd been sitting in to the empty salon chair next to Stephanie. He nodded at Mr. Alexander, and the stylist didn't waste any time, perhaps fearing Ranger would change his mind. He wouldn't. He'd made the decision to get his hair cut, but hadn't yet worked it into his schedule. It would be a representation of his new beginning, one he'd yet to discuss with Stephanie.

Mr. Alexander pulled out a ruler and measured Ranger's ponytail. "Oh, it's close," he said, "but not long enough. I need ten inches for Locks of Love. You've only got eight. I thought you looked like ten inches," Ranger looked up to see Stephanie smiling at him.

"Maybe you want to wait," she told Ranger. "If you waited a couple of months you could donate it."

"No," Ranger and Mr. Alexander spoke simultaneously. He'd made the decision and he was going through with it. Mr. Alexander seemed to have his own reasons for wanting to run his hands through Ranger's hair. Ranger didn't care, he just wanted it cut and he wanted to get on with their day.

When he was finished, Mr. Alexander turned the chair so Ranger could have a look at his new haircut. Stephanie came to stand beside the chair and looked at Ranger in the mirror. "It looks nice," she told him and Mr. Alexander nodded his head in self-satisfied agreement.

As they got into the Turbo, Ranger once again checked his watch. He saw Stephanie looking at him quizzically. "Are we in a hurry?" she asked as her hand came up to touch his hair where it barely brushed his ear.

"We have an appointment at Sunny's," he told her.

"Sunny's Gun Shop?" she asked.

"Yes. I'm buying you a new gun, and I'm going to teach you how to use it."

"I don't need a new gun," Stephanie said. "I've already got one I don't use."

"You'll use this one, Babe. And you are going to apply for a concealed and carry permit." He could see she wanted to protest, but she remained quiet. He'd planned to spend time with her in her apartment this morning, and if it hadn't been for the hair disaster she would already know he had changed his relationship ideas, and she'd know why he wanted her to have a semi-automatic weapon she could use for self-defense.

Sunny, the proprietor, welcomed Ranger with warmth. He'd been a good customer and she wanted his repeat business. When she saw Stephanie, her eyes widened and she said, "Well, if it isn't a celebrity, here in the store, the Bombshell Bounty Hunter." He saw Stephanie wince as other customers turned to look. Sunny was oblivious to Steph's discomfort. "She bought her first gun from me. What can I do for you, honey?" She smiled broadly at Stephanie.

"She wants a semi-automatic weapon," Ranger said. "A handgun for concealed and carry purposes. I'm thinking a Glock 26."

"Hold out your hand, honey," Sunny instructed Stephanie. Stephanie shot a look at Ranger and then did as Sunny asked. "Yep, Ranger, I think you're right."

"I'll explain all this later," Ranger told Steph. "It's important for you to have an appropriate weapon, Babe." She nodded her head to indicate she'd heard. They left the gun shop with their purchase and Ranger looked down the block. He had plans for a nice lunch at Marsillio's, but he realized the Main Street Café was just around the corner. It was the place he and Stephanie had first met and he had the urge to see her again in the same surroundings, and remember once again how he'd felt the first time he saw her.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "Ranger you told me to be ready for everything, but I want to know what's going on. You've been acting odd all morning and we haven't talked since before you left."

"We haven't really talked since you left the apartment and got captured by the Slayers," he said, "but we are going to talk, Babe. As soon as we feed the beast." He steered her away from the Turbo. "Let's walk," he said and he reached out and took her hand.

"What was the gun shopping all about?" she asked him.

"You're walking down the street holding my hand, Babe. People will get the idea that we're together, and a lot of people don't like me. You need to be protected, and having a decent weapon, one that you'll be comfortable using, is a start."

"Are we?" she asked. He raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Together," she said. "Are we together, Ranger?" He didn't answer, but stopped in front of a door, which he pulled open and waited for her to enter.

As they walked through the door to the café, Stephanie said, "This is where I met you, the day you said you'd be my Henry Higgins."

"Yes," Ranger said. "It is." He steered her down the long aisle to the back booth in the left corner of the restaurant. It was where they sat the first time and he realized the booth would afford them the privacy they'd need to talk. He smiled as the waitress left the table with their orders. "That's what you ordered the first time we ate here," Ranger said.

"How can you remember that?" Stephanie asked.

"I remember because I came here as a favor to Connie, but I wasn't planning on helping you. I didn't want to be saddled with an amateur," Ranger said. "I decided to help you for two reasons. I thought a woman who ate dessert first was someone I should learn more about, and any woman who could cold-bloodedly run over her old boyfriend had potential as a BEA."

"Oh, there was nothing cold-blooded about me the day I ran over Joe. I was seeing mostly red," Stephanie said with a rueful laugh.

"Tell me about Joe, Stephanie." Ranger looked at her with interest.

"What about him?" Stephanie asked.

"Tell me why you aren't with him, and tell me it's really over." He was looking at her solemnly and daring her to tell him she still had feelings for Joe. He had to know. And she did tell him. She told him she knew Joe had been unfaithful. She also told him Joe was still in her life as a friend, but nothing more.

"So you're okay he's dating Robin Russell?" Ranger asked.

"They're more than dating, and it's okay," Stephanie said. "She'll be good for him."

"And what about you?" he asked her. "What's good for you?" Stephanie's eyes stayed down, not meeting his gaze. His eyes were intense and focused on her and he couldn't take his gaze off her. He wanted her to look at him and tell him he was good for her.

"I can't do it, Ranger."

"Babe?"

"Just because Joe is out of the picture, I can't get back in your bed. I don't need a ring or a promise of marriage, but I…" she stopped talking as the waitress placed their food on the table. A large bowl of salad with dressing on the side slid in front of Ranger, and in front of Stephanie a plate of chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes, all covered in gravy. Next to the plate sat an enormous square of chocolate cake.

Ranger picked up his fork and cut a generous piece of the cake. He held it out to Stephanie and as her mouth closed around the fork he said, "I love you, Stephanie." He watched as she savored the flavor of the cake, and swallowed the bite. She reached for her water and took a long drink and said, "Yes, you love me in your own way, but…"

"I love you in every way, and I'm not offering you a ring or a promise of marriage, at least not now. I want you in my life, and in my bed, and I can promise you, you'll be the only one in my bed. Does that change the way you feel?" Stephanie picked up her fork and took another bite of cake, and then she stood.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

"Babe?"

"It changes everything, Ranger. Let's go home."

Home was her apartment, because it afforded them more privacy than his apartment. He didn't want security cameras watching them as they entered RangeMan in the middle of the day. Normally, he didn't give a damn what his employees thought of his actions, but today he didn't want to share any part of her with anyone. He was feeling a little off kilter, not his usual self at all, and he was feeling a little vulnerable, something he wasn't used to.

They stood in the foyer of her small apartment and he waited for her to make the decision. One way to the bedroom and the other to the living room. They needed to talk, but there was something they both needed more. She dropped the big black purse heavy with cuffs, a stun gun, hairspray and other important tools of her trade, and turned to stare at him. He stepped forward, scooped her into his arms and carried her into her bedroom.

There was nothing romantic about it. The bedding sparkled with red glitter in the harsh midday light shining through the window. There was no soft classical music, no champagne chilling. There were the sounds of mid-day traffic seeping in under the not quite closed window jamb. His desire for her was so strong, he was clumsy in his attempts to lay her on the bed. He felt as unsure of himself as if it was his first time, a thought which caused him to almost smile, as he couldn't clearly remember his first time.

She stood from the bed where he'd laid her. She brought her hands to his waist and pulled his t-shirt from his cargos. "Get undressed, Ranger." It was said with no levity, no hint of coquettishness. It was a command and he obeyed. When he stood before her naked she reciprocated and quickly undressed. They were standing next to her bed, not touching and naked, and his desire was evident. He saw her eyes dip low to stare at his cock and when her gaze returned to his she was smiling. She gave him a shove and he fell back onto her bed. "Before we do this, Ranger, there's something you need to know." She took a deep breath, held it for a moment and spoke on a rush of exhalation.

"I love you."

"Shit," he said, standing up from the bed. He turned to pull the covers back and noticed he had red glitter stuck to his thigh. Stephanie seemed surprised at his response to her statement. He reached out and took her arm and pulled her closer to the bed. "Get in."

She slipped into the bed and Ranger got in next to her and pulled the covers over both of them. He didn't want to see any part of her naked body. There were things that had to be said. This wasn't how he'd planned it, but he was not going to make love to her until they'd talked.

"We have to talk, Babe," he told her and groaned at the response of his body to her nearness. "Do you remember I said it had to be casual between us?"

"Yes, but…"

"I was wrong," he told her. "What I feel isn't casual. It never was." He felt her lips against his neck and shuddered with desire for her.

"Stop!" he told her.

"Stop?" Her tongue traced the path her lips had just touched.

"I want to say something to you and it's important, please, Babe!" His urgency made her pause and she pulled back slightly realizing how serious he was. She scooted her body away from him and looked into his eyes.

"Talk," she said simply, and he did. He told her of his enemies, and how he'd always known there would be no one special in his life. He'd thought it was impossibile because of his early career choices. He told her of his bond with Tank and how it came about, and he told her of Tank's insistence he was suffering from PTSD. And then he told her about his trip to Scotland.

"You've changed me, Babe. You've made me reconsider was is possible."

"So you're saying you want some sort of relationship with me?" she asked him.

"Yes," he said. "I love you." He rolled over on top of her and her legs spread to let him nestle between them. He looked down at her and his face relaxed into a wide smile. "And you love me." He leaned in to kiss her and there was no more talking for a long, long time.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 35

He was hungry. They'd skipped lunch and he had expended a lot of energy during the course of the afternoon. It made him think of the first time they were together in this bed and he checked his immediate response, which was to turn his thoughts away. It was a habit he was trying to break. Anytime their first time came into his mind he had pushed it to the very back of his consciousness. It was the only way he could deal with the pain, but this time he made an effort to remember all of the details. His uncontrolled passion, and her unexpected response. The hunger, and the Tastykakes. He smiled at the memory and he thought Tavia would be pleased. He was making progress.

He could lift her off him and go look for food, but she was sleeping soundly and he didn't want to disturb her. She was straddling him diagonally with her knees on either side of his thighs. Her upper body had slipped off him and her head was buried in his armpit. He could see a mass of brown curls and her backbone extending in a crooked line down his body. He frowned as he saw red glitter stuck to the base of her spine. She looked uncomfortable, but she was snoring softly and he felt, possibly, a puddle of drool running down the inside of his arm. She was a mess and he was so turned on he was going to have to wake her up.

His phone rang and did the job for him. He reached to the nightstand and saw it was Tank. Stephanie moaned and rolled off his body to curl up next to him. He thought about letting it go to voicemail, but it was Tank and Tank had known of his plan to spend the day with Stephanie, so it must be important.

"Yo."

"We've got trouble." Tank was all business and Ranger paid close attention. "The Edison account was compromised today. Someone got in without setting off the alarms. Woody and Hector are on site and I'm going down to start damage control. I thought you'd want to know."

"I'll be there in twenty," Ranger said and he disconnected. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay with Stephanie, but he'd been gone for several weeks and had left so much of the day-to-day running of the company to Tank it was time to jump back in with both feet.

"How long will you be gone?" Stephanie asked running her hand down his chest, stopping at the edge of the waist-high sheet.

"I don't know, but I'll call." He stood from the bed and began the search for his clothes. "You should stay in bed and get more sleep," he told her, "because I will be back and you'll need all your energy." His eyes widened as he saw her blush at his statement. She reached down and pulled the tangled sheet up over her bare breasts.

He laughed at her blush. "Babe, really?" He dressed quickly and leaned down to smooth the covers up over her and tucked them securely under her chin. "I should be able to work through the problem in a couple of hours." He looked at his watch and remembered his long ago plans for the day. "I'm taking you out for dinner and dancing. I'll be back by seven. Be ready."

Her response was a smile and he saw her stretch under the covers and he knew he couldn't leave without another touch, so he bent to give her one last kiss.

"We could stay home tonight," she told him.

"No. We're going to celebrate." She raised her eyebrows in a silent question. "Us," he told her. "We're going to celebrate us."

As he walked from her bedroom he glanced toward Stephanie's dining room and something familiar caught his eye. He took a detour on his way to the door. His hand ran over the heavy cream envelope addressed to Stephanie in hand-lettered calligraphy. He had no need to open the envelope. There was an identical one on the sideboard in his apartment. Time to call his mother.

As he turned from the door of her apartment and made his way to the stairs his mind was filled with what he wanted to say, and what he could actually get away with saying to his mother. He was halfway down the stairs when Morelli turned the corner on his way up. Both men stopped, staring at one another. After a moment's hesitation, Morelli resumed his climb.

"This isn't a good time," Ranger said. "She's napping." Morelli stopped one step below him.

"Is she sick?" he asked Ranger.

"No."

"Strange time of day for a nap," Morelli said, and then he lifted one eyebrow and continued his climb.

"This isn't a good time," Ranger repeated softly. He had no particular fight with Morelli, but he didn't like the idea of Morelli dropping by uninvited.

"I need to talk to her," Morelli said.

"I'll give her a message."

"You do that, Mañoso. Tell her the charges have been dropped on Anton Ward, the Red Devil, and he's now a free man." Morelli turned and made his way back down the stairs. He stopped at the bottom and stood with his back to Ranger. "I don't think Ward is much of a threat. The Slayers are pretty well destroyed, but I'd keep her and Lula off Comstock, if I were you."

"I'll tell her."

"Yeah," Morelli said. "You tell her, and when she doesn't listen, try Maalox. It works better than Tums." And he was gone.

Ranger pushed the building door open and stepped into the parking a lot, awash in the late afternoon sun. He saw Morelli's SUV peel out of the lot and into traffic. He walked toward the Turbo. The sooner he got to the Edison building, the sooner he could be free to spend the evening with Stephanie. He checked his wristwatch again and considered calling his mother. It was late in the afternoon and he knew she'd be preparing for his father's arrival at home.

His parents had an end of the day ritual their children were aware of and didn't normally intrude upon. They had provided a loving home for him and his siblings, but there was always a connection between his parents that was obvious to the children. Claudia and Ricardo were a team and very much in love, and their end of the workday retreat was well known to all the children. His father entered the house and went straight to his bedroom where he spent ten or fifteen minutes alone with his wife. When the kids were young they waited around the table. When his father came to join the family at dinner, the businessman was gone, and their papa was available to all of his children.

As a child he'd known his mother was upstairs telling his father all the trouble he'd gotten into during the day. Or sometimes he was sure his mother had told his father how mean his older sisters had been to him. As an adult, it crossed his mind that possibly more than conversation regarding the day's events had occurred during that short transition from the workday world to the evening devoted to the family, but even as an adult he couldn't go there. They were his parents.

He made the call. His father wouldn't be home yet and there were things that had to be said.

"Carlos?" The caller ID had obviously announced his call. He heard the unspoken question. He'd just spent time with her two days ago and it was unusual for him to be calling, especially approaching his father's homecoming time.

"I won't take long, Mother. I just wanted to RSVP for your anniversary celebration."

"That's unnecessary, Carlos. I know you'll be there."

"I'm RSVPing for Stephanie. She'll be coming with me."

"Oh?"

"Don't match-make, Mother. I can take care of my personal life fine without you. I appreciate the effort, but _stop_."

"So Stephanie will be your date?"

"She will be accompanying me," he said. He hadn't asked her, but he'd been planning to. And, yes, dammit, she would be his date. He just wasn't ready to go public with what was between them, at least with his family. There would be immediate questions about their future, and they would be questions he couldn't answer. He and Stephanie were new, and the fact they had a future was enough for him. He wasn't going to let his family entertain speculations about the two of them if he could avoid it.

"As your friend?" Damn, his mother was persistent.

"Yes. I've told you we are friends and coworkers."

"Carlos, did it ever, for even a moment, occur to you I might have invited Stephanie because I wanted her there as my friend?"

Nice try, Mama. "No." He disconnected. He didn't see the broad smile that lighted his mother's face, and he didn't hear her deep, satisfied chuckle.

There was a controlled chaos at the scene. Hector and Woody were reviewing videotape trying to figure out who had gotten around the alarms, and how. Tank was talking to the CEO as Ranger approached.

Ranger shook hands with the man. He was about to offer him an assurance they would figure out what had gone wrong when Lester approached with a tall shapely brunette clinging to his arm.

"Ranger, meet Ms. Allensworth." Lester angled his head toward the CEO. "She's Mr. Frend's executive assistant." The woman left Lester's side and walked toward her boss.

"I'm sorry, bab…sir." The CEO, Mr. Frend, blushed and Ranger knew what was coming.

"I turned off the camera and alarm before our, ah, conference today, and I forgot to reset." Ms. Allensworth hung her head.

"It's fine," he said quietly to the noticeably upset assistant. He turned toward Ranger and Tank. "I'm sorry, gentlemen. It seems your systems didn't fail at all. I'll start an internal investigation to see who was in my office, and what they took."

"We'd be happy to assist you with that investigation," Tank told him. "I've got two men going over different feeds right now. Maybe other cameras can give us a hint."

"Yes, well, thank you," Mr. Frend said.

"Let's go to your office, sir," Lester told the CEO. "I'll help you and," he shot a smile toward the distraught assistant, "Ms. Allensworthy sort through the mess.

"It's worth," she corrected Lester. "Allensworth, you know like, 'It's worth it'."

Lester grinned. "I'm sure it is." He once again hooked his arm through the woman's.

The CEO followed Lester and Ms. Allenworth, who was paying a great deal of attention to Lester. Ranger smiled tightly. The right man for the right job. Lester had his unique talents.

Ranger looked over at Tank. "That was easy," he told his friend.

"Easier that I thought it would be," Tank replied. "Sorry to call you out for nothing."

"Don't apologize. It's my job." Ranger said.

Tank looked at him for a long moment. "Welcome back, Rangeman."

"I've got a new job for you," Ranger told him. "Anton Ward is back on the street. His movements need to be monitored."

"I'll get on it," Tank said. He and Ranger turned and began to walk back to the parking area.

When he was once again seated in the Turbo, Ranger called Stephanie.

"Yo." Her voice was lazy and teasing, as she mocked him with his own greeting.

"Are you still in bed?"

"Yes."

He thought about turning the Porsche in the direction of her apartment, but he resisted. "We're going out, Babe. To the Cayman Club in Newark."

"The Cayman Club?" He heard the excitement in her voice. It was well known as an upscale dining and dancing establishment.

"Can you be ready in an hour?" he asked.

There was only a slight hesitation before she said yes. He smiled. He'd give her an hour and a half.

When she opened her door to him, he forgot to breathe. She was dressed in a black sheath which scooped low showing her cleavage to its full advantage. Her hair was a halo of curls around her head, its new shorter length curing under her chin and leaving part of her neck exposed. He wanted to lean in and touch the skin of her neck with his mouth, but he resisted. His eyes traveled down the length of her dress which clung to every curve and ended well above her knees. Her legs were long and muscular and her feet were encased in black patent sling-backs with four-inch heels.

"Can you dance in those shoes?" he asked her, not taking his eyes from them. "Because dancing is on the agenda."

"Of course I can," she replied. He let his eyes roam slowly upward and stopped at her breasts. He could clearly see the outline of her nipples through the jersey fabric. It seemed she was as taken with his appearance as he was with hers. He reached out a finger and dipped it slowly into her cleavage. When he withdrew his finger he held it in front of his face for a moment before extending it toward her. His smile was wide. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the single piece of red glitter.

"I'm going to be wearing glitter for months. Darn that Sally." She stepped back from the door. "Let me get my purse and make sure I have everything I need, and then I'll be ready." He followed her to the dining room, where her purse was laying on the table next to the invitation he'd seen earlier.

"I called my mother today," he said. "I told her I'd planned to ask you to attend the anniversary celebration with me. Will you go?"

"I, um, yes," she said blushing. "I'd like to." She picked her purse up from the table and took a moment to inspect her date. "You look so different with short hair," she told him, "but very handsome. And your suit is gorgeous. I'm not used to seeing you dressed like this. It's almost as if you're a stranger."

"You'll get used to it, Babe. And I guarantee I'm the same guy as I was earlier today."

"Well, the package is wrapped differently," and then she blushed furiously as Ranger laughed. "That's not what I meant!" she exclaimed, and then laughed with him. They left the apartment hand-in-hand and made their way down the stairs and out to the Porsche.

It was over an hour to downtown Newark where the dinner club was located. He was quiet as he drove. If he'd been alone in the car he'd have had music on, but he knew it wouldn't have been Stephanie's choice. And he was with Stephanie. She wouldn't stay quiet for long. The decision to take her to Newark had been well thought out. They were in a relationship and it didn't matter if the rules were undefined. She would be spending time with his family and he thought it would be a good thing to get her used to the affluent lifestyle some of his family flaunted. His present lifestyle was well known to Stephanie and it wasn't so far from her own, but that was his choice and his circumstance.

He thought there was a good possibility they would run into someone who knew him or his family tonight. It would be a good way to ease her into the Cuban society. The minute the words entered his mind he was reminded of Tulia Campos and her chiding that he was acting in a manner inappropriate for his place in Cuban society. The plain fact was he was from a prominent family and no matter how much he'd turned his back on them in the past, he was going to have to own up to his heritage. It was the only way he could bridge the gaps he'd made in his family relationships. Another thing he would have to report to Tavia.

The ringing of Stephanie's phone interrupted his musing. He didn't try to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to in the close confines of his car. It was Lula.

"There's a rumor going on here at RangeMan," Lula told her. "I heard the guys talking and they said you're on a date with Batman."

"It's true," Stephanie replied.

"Why did I have to find out from the grapevine? I need to spend more time at the bonds office. I'm losing touch. I'm gonna come in and file for Vinnie tomorrow. You gonna be there?"

"Bright and early," Stephanie replied.

"Hunh. I'll see you around ten and I'm gonna want details." Lula disconnected and Stephanie looked to see how much Ranger had heard.

"About Lula, Babe," Ranger said. "How are things going without her?"

"Things are going great," Stephanie replied. "But I miss her. I always get my skip, because I've got RangeMan help. So things are going great, but they're kinda boring too."

"I'm hoping Lula will be back working as your partner soon," Ranger said.

"Are you firing her?"

"No. She's doing quite well with her research and Tank is impressed by her progress learning basic self-defense. If we could get her proficiency with a firearm up to acceptable levels she could partner with you. Would you like that?"

"Yes, but I can't imagine working with a Lula who is actually prepared for what we're doing."

Ranger was quiet for a moment wondering whether to broach the subject of Stephanie's training. He decided to go ahead. "I talked to Morelli today," he told her.

Her head swung around and he could feel her eyes on him. He kept his on the road. "Anton Ward was released today. Charges were dropped due to a police screw up with his arrest." She was silent and he glanced briefly at her.

"Babe?"

"Did Joe say he was coming for me?" Her voice sounded resigned.

"No. He said he didn't think Ward was a threat. But it brings up something we need to talk about. I want you to come to RangeMan. You can work with Vince, or Tank, or Lester for that matter. Or you can work with me. I want you to learn how to use your new gun, and I want you to start carrying it, loaded and ready to use. No more cookie jar."

He waited for her to tell him she didn't like guns, that she wasn't comfortable carrying one, but he didn't hear it. "Is it important to you?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Because of Ward?" she asked.

"Partly, and partly because of me. I tried for months to avoid a relationship with you to keep you safe. Now we are together and I still feel the need to keep you safe. Knowing that you are carrying a weapon you are qualified to use will help."

"You."

"Babe?"

"I choose you. I want you to train me." She leaned across the narrow confines of the car and pressed her lips to his cheek. And then she surprised him even further. "And you can put trackers in my purse and on my car, and you can even put a GPS chip in my phone."

Ranger stayed silent, judging now was not the time to tell her he already had.

He'd been to the Cayman Club several times before, mostly with family, and the maître d' greeted him like an old friend. He sat them in a corner where two glass walls merged. The lights of the city spread out in all directions and the view was amazing. Ranger couldn't appreciate it. His eyes left her face only to travel down to her neckline and then when it became uncomfortable, back to her face. They had wine with their dinner and he was careful to monitor her consumption. He knew she didn't have a head for alcohol and he wasn't taking any chances she'd be out of commission later in the evening. He still had plans for her at his apartment.

After dinner they danced and it was both pleasure and pain to hold her so close. He was completely mesmerized by her. He was still aware of his surroundings, and aware that they were in public and he couldn't let his hands drop to her ass and pull her tightly against him. On the other hand, if he maneuvered her into the far corner of the dance floor…

They returned to their table to drink another glass of wine. "This is lovely," Stephanie told him. "I think I feel a little like Cinderella, and you know what that means." He felt her toes slide up the leg of his pants, and his erection was immediate. He'd been half hard since he picked her up, and dancing had been a sweet torture.

"Do you mean you lost a slipper?" he asked her, still feeling her bare toes against his skin. She laughed.

"No," she said. "I mean I have to be home way before midnight." Her toes continued their journey and suddenly her eyes grew wide. "There's no knife. I know there's no gun, because we were dancing very close, and now…" Her toes skimmed his warm skin above the top of his sock. "Are you unarmed?"

"Wrong leg, Babe." He didn't have a gun on him, but there were two in the Porsche. He looked at his watch. Haywood and his apartment were a solid hour away. It had been a long day starting out with a confrontation with Lester and ending up in this restaurant with Stephanie. He wasn't so much concerned with getting her home before midnight as he was getting her home before he ran out of energy. A shadow fell over the table and he looked up to see Tulia Campos.

He was surprised, but he shouldn't have been. Her apartment, the one he was still paying for, was in a building on the same block. She was so completely a part of his past he hadn't considered the possibility of running into her. As soon as she spoke he knew she'd had too much to drink.

"Are you going to introduce me, Carlos?" She looked at Stephanie closely. "At first I thought this was the same old woman you were with the last time, but this one's much younger." She turned to Stephanie. "Are you stealing your older sister's boyfriend, honey?"

Stephanie looked at Ranger. The tight line of his mouth told her he was very angry and fighting to contain his temper. Tulia held out her hand to Stephanie. "Tulia Campos," she said. "The ex-lover. And you I presume are the future ex-lover." Then Tulia swung around and faced Ranger again. "You still have your key, Carlos? You should come see me. I can make you forget all about this one, too. We were meant for each other. It's in our blood." Tulia leaned down over the table to get closer to Ranger and he moved to grab hold of her to stop her progress, but he never got the chance. Tulia crumpled and fell in a heap on the floor next to their table. Ranger never saw the unshod foot that literally took her legs out from under her.

Rogay Alvarado came scurrying across the room. "Tulia!" he said as he bent to help her up.

"Get her out of here," Ranger said softly, and Alvarado saw he was serious. He lifted a confused Tulia up and walked her back to the other side of the restaurant.

"We're leaving," Ranger said. "Cinderella or not, it's time for us to leave the ball."

When they were in the Porsche and Ranger was navigating the streets of downtown Newark he glanced at Stephanie and said, "I know you have questions. Go ahead."

"I have no questions," she said. "The woman, Tulia I think she said, said she was your ex-lover. She didn't know who I was though, because she thought I was your future ex-lover." Stephanie reached across and let her fingers curl into the front of Ranger's slacks. Her fingers found him beneath the fabric and tightened their hold, moving slowly up and down the length of him. "I don't care who was in your past. I just care that I'm your present." His foot depressed the accelerator as much as he dared, and he maneuvered his way onto the turnpike. Home, he had to get home.


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: Thanks to Jago Ji who kept endlessly returning my chapters with unbelievable timeliness and held me to my posting schedule. And thanks to everyone who has followed this story. This chapter brings to an end my first attempt to write anything other than a 1****st**** person SPOV. The comments from reviewers have been mostly positive and always thoughtful and insightful. During the posting of this story I was writing about 12,000 to 14,000 words a week and my review responses weren't always timely, and for that I apologize, but the reviews were always read and appreciated.**

Chapter 36

Ranger sat behind his desk and stared thoughtfully into space, ignoring the papers stacked in front of him. Being the boss had its perks and one of those perks was he could usually find a reason to avoid family obligations. This was different. He'd already asked Stephanie to go with him and his mother and father were expecting him. They'd all be there, even his sister Rosa who was coming from the convent in Miami. He did want to see Rosa as they were close, but he would have liked to see her one-on-one and not in the middle of a big family free for all.

He'd given some consideration to his hesitancy to go. He remembered clearly discussing his isolation tendencies with his therapist, Tavia, but he didn't think it was his PTSD that was making him want to run the other direction from his family. He thought it was Stephanie. He knew his family would bend over backwards to make her feel comfortable and accepted. They'd done so the night he brought her home for dinner. But this would be her second family event and there would be questions, both discreet and straightforward, depending upon the questioner.

He didn't have answers, because he and Stephanie had fallen into a mutually agreeable rhythm without discussing future plans. Some nights she stayed at Haywood, and some nights he stayed at her apartment. Some nights they slept apart, but those nights were rare and usually happened because of late nights at RangeMan.

The last night they'd been apart was just two nights ago and it was not because of RangeMan business. Stephanie was staking out an apartment in the Burg, waiting for a skip to visit his girlfriend. She'd gotten a tip the FTA was inside the girlfriend's house and she sat all night waiting for him to come out, but she didn't sit alone. Lula had accompanied her.

Her car was equipped with trackers and Lula was wearing a personal device issued to her by RangeMan. Stephanie's purse contained a tracker, too, and their location had been monitored all night. He didn't think there would be a problem and there hadn't been. Still, he was surprised and pleased to find Lula and Stephanie in the bonds office the next morning with Connie. They'd just turned in their body receipt and had worked their way through a large box of donuts. They were laughing and on a high from sugar and lack of sleep. He hadn't chastised Lula for breakfasting outside her nutritional guidelines. He was pleased to see they'd been successful and he had hopes for their future pairings.

His thoughts were interrupted by Woody's sudden appearance in his doorway. "Ranger, Steph's car just went off the radar. And her personal trackers are gone, too."

"Where?"

"The 300 block of Stark."

Ranger stood from his desk and walked quickly through the control room to the stairway. His face was blank, but his mind was running a dozen scenarios. She'd been going to Vinnie's today because Connie had told her they had three new low-level skips. If she was going to go after anyone she was to call for backup. She knew the drill and she wasn't supposed to go alone.

By the time he was at the bottom of the stairs he was running full out and the door crashed heavily against the garage wall as he burst through it. Tank was standing next to an SUV. "Unknown explosion on the 300 block of Stark," he told Ranger. "First reports are of property damage only." The preliminary news was good, but he made his way quickly to the Turbo.

"I'll follow you," Tank told him and the two men drove separately to the scene, each hoping for a good outcome. When he rounded the corner on Stark he saw flashing lights ahead of him. He was going to be among the first at the scene, and his heart was racing. He saw her almost immediately, his gaze zeroing in on her with some unknown radar, amidst the smoking car and milling crowd. There was no good place to park, so he turned off Stark and pulled against a vacant curb. When he rounded the corner he was walking at a controlled speed, and he saw Tank waiting for him, as he stood next to the SUV he'd stopped in the middle of the road. With his emotions tightly controlled and hidden behind an expressionless face he joined Tank and they continued toward the scene together.

She was sitting on the curb watching what was left of the green Saturn burn and she had her arm around Mooner. He had his head lying on her shoulder, his eyes hidden. Probably stoned, Ranger thought. It was more likely that he was, than he wasn't. What the hell was Stephanie doing on Stark Street with Mooner? She knew better.

"Babe."

"Ranger," she said as she untangled herself from Mooner and stood. "I don't know what happened." She looked at him for a moment and he wondered if his expression wasn't as controlled as he thought, because she hurried to offer him assurance that she was alright. She gave Tank a little finger wave and turned her attention back to Ranger.

"What were you doing here?" he asked.

"I was picking up Mooner, he works at the Vitamin and Herb Shop." Vitamin shop. It was a head shop and the clientele in this part of the city was even more suspect than would normally be expected in a shop that sold drug paraphernalia.

"Picking him up as in, he was your skip?"

"Yes."

"Where's your back-up?"

She sighed. "It's Mooner, Ranger. I don't need back-up for Mooner." He wanted to tell her that she did, that she'd promised him she wouldn't go out unprepared, but he didn't say anything because Joe Morelli chose that moment to amble up to them.

"I was in the neighborhood when the call went out and I thought I'd come see the show," he said. "What happened?"

"I don't know for sure. I was in the shop over there and I heard a boom and now…no more car," Stephanie told him.

"I won, Cupcake," Morelli said. "Now that we're not together they let me join the pool. I had today picked." Stephanie's face turned red and Ranger knew it was from temper and not embarrassment.

Morelli looked toward Ranger and the men nodded at one another. Further conversation was prevented by the uniform cop who came up and started questioning Stephanie.

Ranger spoke to Tank who had been silently standing by. "Take Mooner, and run by the bonds office. Have Connie get duplicate papers and then you can take him in. I'm betting her purse and the papers went up with the car, since her personal tracker is offline. I'll wait and get her out of here."

Tank walked over to Mooner who was still lounging on the curb watching the scene as if it were a TV melodrama. "How'd you like to go for a ride in my big shiny black car?" Tank asked him, and Mooner's eyes brightened as he followed Tank back to the SUV.

Morelli left sometime during the questioning. Ranger figured it was a hard habit to break, racing to the scene of her latest disaster, so he let his irritation at seeing Morelli slide. His irritation with Stephanie wasn't slipping away as easily. When all questions were answered and the remains of the car were being loaded onto the tow vehicle she came back to him.

"Thanks for waiting," she said. "Would you give me a ride to my mother's? It looks like I'm going to have to borrow Big Blue." He turned and walked toward the end of the block in the direction of the Turbo and she fell into step beside him. He waited until they were on their way back to RangeMan before he spoke. His voice was calm. "Was your purse in the car?"

"Yes, I just left it on the seat when I ran in to get Mooner. I was only in the shop for a minute. I guess I should have taken it with me, because now I have to replace all of my ID."

"And your weapon," Ranger said. Stephanie said nothing. "Or was it on your person?" he asked softly.

"Uh, no," she said. "I left it at home."

"In the cookie jar?"

"The new gun doesn't fit." She smiled at Ranger, but his face remained stern. "Ranger, I know I promised to carry it and I will, but the paperwork for my concealed carry permit hasn't gone through yet, and it was just Mooner."

He remained silent as he made his way back to RangeMan. When they pulled into the underground garage, Stephanie sighed. "I see we're not going straight to my mother's." He didn't answer. He parked the Turbo and they opened their doors together. He took her arm in a manner that looked casual to anyone watching on the monitors, but his grip was firm enough to lead her to the elevator. When they were in his apartment he turned to her and continued the conversation where they'd left off.

"It was just Mooner?" he asked. "Mooner was responsible for blowing up your car?"

"I don't know," she said. "It might have been someone who was upset with Mooner, I just don't know."

"So maybe it wasn't related to Mooner," Ranger said. "Maybe it was Benito Ramirez or Eddie Abruzzi, or maybe it was Cesar Hidalgo." His voice wasn't calm any longer and he could feel the tightness of his features as the anger built within him.

Stephanie was shaken by his demeanor, he could tell. "Benito Ramirez and Eddie Abruzzi are dead," she said confusion showing in her eyes. "And I don't know who Cesar Hidalgo is."

"Cesar Hidalgo is the son of a man I assassinated in Mexico four years ago. As far as I know, Cesar is still rotting in a Mexican prison, but he's vowed to avenge his father's death."

"I'm sorry…" she said, but he interrupted.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Stephanie? You promised me you would take more care. If you die at the hands of one of my enemies, I won't be able to live with myself. That leaves us with one choice." He watched the confusion on her face turn to understanding. "Either you follow simple rules which are put in place to protect you, or there is no more us. No more lover, friend or mentor." He felt a sudden emptiness as all the anger and frustration left and a feeling of dread took its place. "I'm sorry, Babe. I can't compromise on this." He waited for her to say it was over and walk away.

She didn't answer. She turned and ran from the room into his bedroom and he heard the bathroom door slam shut. He sighed and removed his weapons and carefully laid them on the end table before he collapsed into the armchair. He slouched back letting his head rest against the soft leather and closed his eyes. He waited five minutes, then ten. Weariness settled over him and with an effort he pulled himself out of the chair and walked into his bedroom. He stopped for a moment at the closed bathroom door.

There was no sound from inside as his fingers wrapped around the handle. He opened the door and saw she was standing in front of the sink. From the redness of her cheeks he deduced she had just washed her face. The sight of a mascara-stained washcloth on the counter confirmed his suspicions. Tears were running unabated down her cheeks.

Ranger walked behind her and let his arms wrap around her and he pulled her back close to him. Their eyes met in the mirror. "I'm really sorry, Ranger," she said. "It won't happen again, I promise. I won't place you in that position." Her breath came on ragged sobs and still her eyes held his in the mirror. He bent his head and kissed her neck above the collar of her shirt and his embrace tightened pulling her even closer to him. They stood unmoving for several moments, and he felt his body respond to her nearness.

He raised his head and met her eyes in the mirror again. The need to possess her was overwhelming. He loosened his arms to reach out and pull her t-shirt up over her head and he quickly unhooked her bra, letting it drop to the floor. He watched his hands cup her breasts and saw her nipples pucker and harden against his palms. His gaze went back to her face and he saw the need radiating out of eyes now heavy-lidded with desire.

He dropped his hands to the waistband of her jeans. The snap and zipper gave way easily and he slipped both hands along the plane of her abdomen. One hand was flat against her belly holding her body back against his hardness. The other slid lower and found her moist heat. Her indrawn breath brought his eyes up from his hands to meet hers and then he let his gaze slide up to his own face and he was momentarily stilled.

The desire and need he saw in his own eyes was foreign and unsettling to him. He looked vulnerable, and he equated vulnerability with weakness. He pulled back and turned her in his arms. He lifted her up and carried her into his bedroom, where there was no mirror, and they made love.

He let her towel him off after their shower and then he started the conversation in earnest again. "Take a fleet vehicle, Babe. There's no need for you to drive the Buick."

"No," she said. "I don't want to be driving a RangeMan vehicle. I owe you enough already. The Buick is good transportation."

"No price, Stephanie."

"This relationship is new to me, Ranger, and I know it's new to you. I meant what I said earlier. I'll be careful not to go after skips alone, and I will carry the gun, and I will be prepared. I don't want to drive your car. I couldn't take it if I blew up another one. Let me drive the Buick, but I will need a ride over to get it."

"Are you going to go after someone else today?"

"No, I'm meeting Lula sometime around four. We're going shopping. I'm going to buy a dress for your parents' anniversary party." He found his wallet and pulled out a credit card and handed it to her. She waved it away.

"I can afford to buy my own dress," she told him. "We are together, but you aren't obligated to pay for everything I need. I won't be a kept woman."

"Letting me buy you a dress hardly makes you a kept woman," he said. He wondered if she was referring to Tulia, but there was no way she could have known about that. He'd talked to Holly and the apartment situation had been resolved.

"No," she said. "It doesn't, but it's more than I want to take from you. Today all I need is a ride to my parents. If you're busy I could maybe have my father come pick me up."

"What about Lula?" he asked. "I saw her Firebird in the garage. Why don't you have her drive you? You can go to the motor vehicle department and replace your license and then you can get an early start on shopping."

"That would be great," she said. "But first we'll go to my apartment and I'll get new credit cards ordered, and…oh." He saw her frown and then she held out her hand. "It's just a loan," she said. "I'll take your darn card. I'm cardless and that was the way I was going to pay for the dress." He smiled as he handed her the card.

It was the middle of the workday and he knew there was speculation on the part of his men regarding his abrupt departure and return with Stephanie. He thought it might not be the best thing to have Stephanie on the floor of the control room as he was pretty sure there'd been a car explosion pool among the men. Today might not be the best day for her to find that out. He called Tank and gave him instructions to inform Lula to meet Stephanie at her car in the garage in ten minutes. And then he tried to remember what he was doing when he'd gotten the news about Stephanie. He was going to salvage some part of the workday.

It was midafternoon when his mother called. "Carlos, can you come for supper?" she asked. "Your father is gone on business and I have something to give you." He wanted to say no, but he acquiesced as he had no good reason to stay away. Stephanie was going to be shopping with Lula and he'd go see his mother and stop by Stephanie's place on his way home.

His mother met him at the door and embraced him, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for coming, Carlos. I've got something to show you." She held out her left hand. He was expecting to see the antique platinum diamond engagement ring his mother had always worn. Instead he saw a modern looking platinum ring with an enormous ruby in the center. It was encircled with diamonds and the band was covered in pave diamonds. "Your father gave it to me for our fortieth anniversary. The jeweler finished the design early and your father just couldn't wait to give it to me. Ruby is the stone for the fortieth and there are forty small diamonds in the ring. It's very romantic, don't you think?"

"It's beautiful," Ranger told her. He was perplexed. Why would she call him and have him come out to see her new gift when he'd see it in a week anyway?

"Come," she urged him. "I've got baked chicken and asparagus for our dinner. And then we can talk." Uh oh. Now he knew. She wanted to talk and he wasn't a betting person, but he'd lay money down she wanted to talk about Stephanie. The conversation during dinner was informational. Ranger heard about the exploits of his siblings and learned of Rosa's flight plans. His mother was very excited to have her entire family together to celebrate their anniversary and he found her excitement was a little contagious. He wasn't dreading the event as much as he had been earlier in the day.

The conversation branched into different areas, but the one person that was conspicuously absent from discussion was Stephanie. He should have been relieved, but he found he was on edge waiting for his mother to start questioning him. He knew she was in communication with Ella frequently, and he was sure she knew of the many nights Stephanie now stayed at Haywood. He didn't want to be rude, but there were just some things he wouldn't discuss.

When the evening was drawing to a close he reminded his mother she'd said she had something to give him.

"I have two things to give you," she told him. She walked from the sofa where they'd been sitting to the sideboard. "Here you are," she said, handing him a CD case. "It's autographed, and the CD is dedicated to me. Isn't that lovely?" He looked down and smiled as he saw the name Leida Velasquez on the cover. "It's her first CD," his mother told him, "and it's making its way up the classical charts. I knew that girl was a star the first time I heard her play."

"Thank you, Mama. You know I appreciate Leida's talent, but surely this CD wasn't so important to bring me all the way out here. If you just wanted my company while Papa was gone, you could have asked. I'd have come. You didn't need to manufacture an excuse to see me."

"Carlos, don't be arrogant. It's one of the traits you share with your father, and I adore your confidence, but I can assure you I am not some old woman sitting here alone, missing your father and unable to occupy myself. I had a very important reason for asking you to come here tonight."

Ranger was frowning. "Now, darling, don't be upset. I do enjoy your company, and I am glad you are here." She pointed to the CD she'd given him. "That girl is still half in love with you. She could have been my daughter-in-law if you'd given her a chance." Claudia held her hands up palms out to still a rising comment from her son. "I'm not match-making. I'm just telling you the truth. With this wedding anniversary celebration and the new ring your father gave me, my mind has been on marriage. Here, hold your hand out." The last was said as a gentle command, and he knew better than to ignore her.

He held his hand out and she dropped a small black velvet box into it. He opened it to see the engagement ring he'd seen on his mother's left hand all of his life. "This ring came to the United States from Cuba on your grandmother's finger. It's tradition to be passed on to the espoused of the eldest male child at the time of his engagement. I know you aren't thinking of marriage, but someday you might, and it would mean a lot to your father if this ring was passed on through you. I won't be wearing it anymore. Put it in your safe. Ella told me you have one in your dressing room."

He was speechless. He wondered if Ella knew about the secret staircase, too. And if Ella did, did his mother? "Thank you," he finally managed. "You're right. I'm not thinking about marriage. Having someone important to me in my life is a new thing. I'm just starting to deal with that and marriage is not on the agenda." He sat in stunned silence at his admission to his mother. Where the hell had that come from?

"It's still uncertain between you and Stephanie, then?" his mother asked. He said nothing and she took that as a yes. "You are still at a time where you haven't explored the boundaries of your commitment. The balance of power within the relationship is still in question and the passion is intense." His fingers tightened around the ring box. He was not having the 'sex talk' with his mother, but he perceived she was going to have it with him whether he responded or not.

"Mother, the topic of Stephanie and me is not open for discussion," he said firmly as she was drawing in a breath to continue. His phone rang and his relief was overwhelming.

"Yo."

"Hi," Stephanie said. "Guess I might need to use a RangeMan SUV for a while after all."

"Babe, you destroyed the Buick?"

"No," she said, laughter making her voice husky. "I'm at my mom and dad's place and the Buick won't start. I'm sort of stuck and I could use a ride."

"I'm an hour away," he said. "Can it wait that long?"

"Yes."

He turned to his mother, very happy to have a reason to abandon their conversation. "I need to go," he said. It took another five minutes to assure her he was doing fine, before he could get out the door. He had a small velvet box in his jacket pocket and Leida's CD in his hand.

"Carlos," his mother called to him. "Needing someone, letting them into your life…that's a good thing. Not something to worry about." He smiled tightly at his mother and waited until she closed the door before he got into the Turbo. Did she have ESP? He sat for moment wondering what he'd said that had given rise to her last comment.

He opened the CD and slid the disc into the player. The strains of Clair de Lune filled the car and his blood pressure lowered as he forgot the uncomfortable discussion at his mother's and made his way to the Burg.

As always, driving was a time for introspection and by the time he pulled in front of the Plum house he was calmer and more at peace than he'd been since Woody's announcement of the vehicle explosion. He noticed a light on in the Plum garage and he could see the hood of the Buick was up. He walked back to speak to Frank. He wasn't even close to an expert mechanic, but he had at least one on staff and he'd see if Frank wanted the services of one of his men.

Five minutes after his arrival Frank decided the Buick was, temporarily, a lost cause and he slammed the hood down. The two men entered the Plum house by the back door and Ranger saw the surprised look in Stephanie's eyes as she forked a large piece of pineapple upside down cake into her mouth. When they left the Plum residence ten minutes later, Stephanie had half the cake in a Tupperware container. They left with the promise Stephanie would return the container.

Ranger thought about the one sided conversation with his mother several times in the days before the anniversary party. He knew talking to him about Stephanie had been her primary reason for requesting his presence that evening. He remembered her comments about the balance of power, and he remembered he'd told Stephanie he had the muscle, but she had the power. At the time, he'd been joking. Now he wondered if he'd hit squarely upon the truth.

The Mass was late in the afternoon and a reception, dinner and dance would follow. His parents were well known in the community and there were many family and friends invited. The Cathedral Basilica of the Sacred Heart was a beautiful old church and Ranger was glad he'd picked Stephanie up early. They had time to explore the various altars and look at the art work before they took their seats in the section reserved for family. During the middle of the Mass his parents were called to the altar and in clear tones, in front of family and friends they renewed their vows and exchanged a tender kiss.

The Mañoso children were used to seeing their parents exchange kisses and more than once Ranger had seen his father grab his mother's ass. He knew they were very much in love and it was obvious they still had an active sex life. He wondered if it was inappropriate to be thinking of his parents' sex life in church. Probably no more inappropriate than to be thinking of his parents' sex life at all. He turned to Stephanie to see her response to the exchange of vows and he was surprised to see her surreptitiously wiping away a tear.

She looked wonderful. She was wearing a blue dress with a high neckline. It was a simple design that dipped low across the back. She was wearing a bra, he was sure of it, but he couldn't see any evidence of it in the back. He was looking forward to solving that mystery at the evening's end. She wore a single strand of pearls which belonged to her granny, but she confided they would be hers someday, and they suited the dress perfectly. Her hair was smoothed back from her face and pulled up in a mass of curls on the crown of her head. She was elegant and beautiful and he was in love. When the Mass was over they went to the reception.

He stopped the Turbo at the curb, opened his door and went around to help Stephanie exit the low slung car. Her purse was on the floor and he reached in to pick it up and hand it to her. It was very heavy.

"Babe, are you carrying bricks in here?" he asked.

"It's my gun, my stun gun and my defense spray," she said. He laughed out loud.

"Are you telling me you came armed to my parents' party?"

"Yes," she said stiffly. "I promised you I would carry my gun always. Are you telling me you're unarmed?"

"No," he said still laughing. Then his expression sobered. "Stephanie, I love you." His lips came down on hers with unexpected force and even though the kiss was brief, it was satisfying. The valet was looking at them with interest as he waited for Ranger to hand him the keys.

The party was well attended and Ranger had a clear view of the door from their table near the front. He had positioned himself near the wall and watched the guests enter. He saw Holly Reynolds. She was accompanied by a tall thin man near her own age. He looked like an accountant, and Ranger sincerely hoped she had found someone to be happy with.

His eyes traveled to the dance floor where his parents were currently leading a conga line and enjoying themselves. He couldn't imagine a woman who would tempt his father, and he knew he was lucky to have been raised in a family where the parents were in love and loved their children. He watched as Holly approached his mother at the end of the raucous dance to express her congratulations, and he marveled at the almost genuine way his mother seemed pleased to see her.

A hand clasped Stephanie's and pulled her, protesting, from the table. His brother Ramon had met Stephanie for the first time prior to the Mass and he was claiming her earlier promise to dance with him. Ramon's wife was heavily pregnant and was apparently happy to have her husband on the floor with another woman. He knew Stephanie was not comfortable with all of the Latin dances, but she did a good job keeping up with Ramon. He would tell her so when she returned to the table.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see his mother. "Dance with me, son." He rose and led her to the floor. She looked beautiful and very happy. They entered the floor just as the previous song ended, and Ramon bowed to Stephanie. Before they could make their way off the floor, Carlos' father grabbed her hand and pulled Stephanie back out to dance.

"When will we meet her family?" his mother asked.

"Her family?"

"Yes, Carlos, her family. Isn't it customary for the parents of the bride and groom to meet?"

"Mother, please."

"Please what, Carlos? I see the way you look at her. It's the way your father still looks at me. You have the chance for a long and happy life with her. Don't be afraid to make the commitment." He led his mother expertly to the far side of the dance floor. The last thing he wanted was for Stephanie to hear any of the conversation.

"You see your need for her as a weakness, but it's not. She needs you too, and if you join together, it's your love and need for one another that will make you strong." They continued the dance in silence, but as it ended he lifted his mother from the floor and swung her effortlessly around. He only did it to hear her predictable, "Carlos, put me down, this instant!" But he didn't hear it. He heard, "Your father and I are very happy for you, Carlos."

Later, Stephanie was once again sitting across the table from him. He was watching her eat. She had taken one of everything at the buffet table. "I hate buffets," she groaned. "I can never decide what not to take, and this one is fabulous. They have everything I could want."

He leaned in close to her. "There's something I want that I don't have." Stephanie looked at his plate of raw vegetables and boiled shrimp.

"What?" she asked. "Did you try the smoked salmon? That seems healthy enough for you."

"Babe."

She looked at him and noted the serious expression on his face.

"I want this." At her look of puzzlement, he continued, "I want to celebrate a fortieth wedding anniversary. With you." Her eyes were wide. She held a boiled shrimp in her hand, which was unmoving.

Ranger slid off the chair and bent one knee to the floor. "Will you marry me, Stephanie?" She popped the shrimp into her mouth and chewed carefully. She swallowed and he could see the tears filling her eyes.

"Yes."

He pulled the antique platinum and diamond ring from his pocket and slid it onto her finger.

The End (almost)

Stephanie Michelle Plum

and

Ricardo Carlos Mañoso

together with their parents  
invite you to share  
the beginning of their new life together

when they exchange marriage vows  
on Saturday, the third of November

two thousand twelve at half after four o'clock  
The Basilica Cathedral of the Sacred Heart  
Newark, New Jersey  
at fan fiction dot net

_The couple requests in lieu of gifts, donations be made to _

_The PTSD Survivors of America Fund_

_Dinner and dance to follow _

_at the PNL Hall, Trenton, New Jersey_

_No RSVP required_


End file.
